No Time For Regrets 1 - Seras
by KamiSama
Summary: Ever wonder what Seras' life was like when she joined Hellsing? Hellsing fro the inside, with some surprises and observations, possibly some sudden romantic bits
1. Chapter 1

Blue eyes for red. It was not a bad trade, mainly due to the side benefits that came with the color change of her eyes.

Not many people died and were born again. Even fewer had it happen twice.

Red-eyed rebirth and blue-eyed rebirth had been vastly different. She would not have given up either event for anything. The first seemed so long ago now. So very long ago and comparatively gentle, peaceful.

That moment was burned into her brain forever. Her second life had began then. That moment, the moon a silvery blur that she childishly tried to grasp, like a toy, a safety blanket…

That moment when his cold, cold hand touched hers, grasping equally cold fingers with such gentleness, with kindness, a kindness no one would ever suspect lay in that unbeating heart. Even she was not sure if she had felt it, later. He hid it that well.

He bent over and still gently, moved her to lay across his knees, her head cradled to his chest. By now she was numb, cold and so thirsty. Thirst she could almost see, pinching her veins, making her lips crack, her eyes feel shrunken like stones in her head, each blink feeling like her eyes were filled with rubber cement that was not yet dry. She had read later that blood loss caused sufferers to feel thirsty, a desperate move by the body to hydrate, to help kick-start the reproduction of blood. Yes, she had felt it, desperate dry, painful thirst.

"Remember, this was your choice." He said firmly, yet with a hint of hesitation. His eyes were so red, and they glowed from under the brim of his hat. The glow did not light his face, but already, even then, she knew every inch of it. The curve of his cheek. The line of his jaw. The thin but sensual lips. The smile lines at the sides of his mouth, that crinkled at his eyes as he grinned so wickedly at the Monster who had held her like a shield.

And those beautiful, mad red eyes.

She could not even whimper in reply. She did not protest as he leaned closer then licked the blood trickling down her chin from her face. He nuzzled her cheek; she still was not sure but thought he had kissed her, quick as a bird, soft as a butterfly's wings.

She blinked at him, her body's shock stealing her pain. He certainly had not done anything to stop the pain himself, though he could have done so easily. He chuckled, and licked a fresh trickle of blood from her lips.

"This is the part when you close your eyes." He said with amusement.

Her eyes stayed wide open.

"I see." He said simply, and then lifted his arm, sliding the oddly pristine white glove off his left hand. He casually bit his wrist and held it to her dry mouth. "Taste the blood, Police Girl. Taste it, and fight your human revulsion." She obeyed, so thirsty that repulsion was the last thing on her mind, her tongue swiping over the slices his fangs had made in his cold flesh. The blood did not taste like she had expected. It was… like lightning, with a strong undercurrent of loam from a forest floor. She licked again, the blood sinking into her desiccated flesh before she could even swallow it, and then licked again, and again. She heard a soft moan, and he pressed his arm closer to her face. Had the moan been hers, or his? She wrapped her lips over the wounds and sucked hard, instinctively stopping the wound from closing.

Yes it was like lightning, crashing into her, the resultant thunder shaking her whole body with a rhythmic beating as if of a Giant's heart. Only it was her heart, struggling, seeking more blood to force through her shriveled veins. She sucked harder, using the very last of her strength to work her jaws, to try and swallow the cold liquid lightning and loam before her mouth simply absorbed it.

She did not gasp when she felt his fangs pierce her throat, but the first pull as he drew her blood out of her jugular made her dizzy. She retaliated with a fierce pull on his arm. He pressed his tongue to her skin and swallowed leisurely, then sucked another draught from her. It made the dizziness grow worse, each swallow making her eyes darken, her heart struggle harder and harder to keep beating, her lips struggling to seal his torn flesh to her.

He grunted softly, pulling her up while keeping his arm pressed firmly to her mouth. His other hand caressed her side, which she could barely feel now. She whimpered, suddenly afraid; not of him, not of this bloody ritual, but... She felt it, racing down upon her like the bullet that had killed her.

She was dying, right there, right then. And a Vampire was drinking her blood, while she tried to drink his, and the moon shone down over his shoulders, making his hair look blue, his skin glow silver…

She had awakened in a bed, panting needlessly for air due to a stupid nightmare. She blinked as the last thing she remembered hit her; being shot and then…

She sat up and lifted her pajama top up, blinking at her utterly whole right breast. Not a sign of a bullet hole was visible, no puckered scar, no tender flesh, nothing. How long had she been unconscious, possibly in a coma for this much healing to have taken place? She tugged the top back down and sighed, then heard an amused little sound right beside her.

There he was, smirking at her almost fondly. Had he seen her…

She wailed and waved her arms wildly as she realized by that smirk he had seen her lift her shirt just then… how embarrassing!

"How does it feel?" he asked her, confusingly. She blinked.

"Pardon?"

"How does it feel, being dead?" She cringed back into the pillows, eyes widening.

"Being… dead? But… what?" He titled his head to the side and frowned slightly.

"Odd. Never brought one over that ended up addled before… Maybe I was too slow to share my blood…"

"I am not _addled_! I am in shock! And I am not dead, obviously! I mean look at me!" She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at him. His eyes widened a little, before he stood then bent at the waist, eyes boring into hers.

"You look at you first." He reached out without looking and grasped a hand mirror on the bedside table, then handed it to her. His eyes never seemed to blink, that glow she had seen now gone. Yet, his eyes were still so beautiful. So deep, and clear, set in a face with such pale skin…

She took the mirror and glanced at it. Yes, it was just her. Blue eyes, blonde hair, pale skin…

No, not pale. _White_ skin. Nothing as white as _he_ was, but pale as if she had been very ill for months, or never been in the sun for a year. "Have I been a long time… recovering…" her… her teeth… she pulled the mirror closer, slowly pulling her lips back, even as her tongue confirmed what she had seen.

Her canine teeth were elongated, upper, and lower. And they were sharp; she cut her tongue touching them. Her eyes went out of focus then she forced herself to look again.

Blue eyes… with a hint of red in the pupils. Blonde hair which was much finer, had more body than before, and was oddly paler, like her skin. Her white, near bloodless skin. Fangs worthy of Count Dracula himself…

"Oh fuck… I'm a vampire." Her voice had no inflection as she stared at the mirror until he took it from her slack fingers and set it aside.

"Oh fuck… you're a vampire." He said and then laughed. "That is what I promised, and that is what I did. I made you like me… well, something like me. Nothing else on this earth is quite like _me_. You have not answered me. How does it feel, being dead?"

"I dunno, I feel the same!" she gulped. He nodded.

"Not for long. You have a lot to learn. You've been dead since last night. I am a little surprised that you are not thirsty. Must be because I am so old and I gave you all of my blood, after I stopped drinking yours. I was quite ravenous after that, let me tell you." He stood back as she stared at him, trying to understand, to accept this. He tilted his head like a curious dog might and reached out with his ridiculously long arm and took her right hand. He knelt beside the bed and placed her hand over his chest, while snuggling his right hand between her breasts in a fashion that held not a hint of sexuality. Since that… vampire masquerading as a priest had fondled her quite violently, she was rather surprised at herself for not shrieking and shoving his hand away.

She had never, would never question her unswerving trust in him. It simply was. She could not say when it came to life, maybe when he stood up and regenerated after having hundreds of bullets rip him to pieces, or maybe when he flat ignored his target to speak to her, offer her some compensation for what he was about to do to her. No matter. He could ask anything of her, do anything to her, and she would obey. It was that simple.

"You are now undead, Police Girl. Do you feel this heart of mine?" He had asked. She shook her head. No, she felt nothing, other than his quietly taking a breath so he could speak. Obviously he did not need the air for anything else. "And I feel nothing under my hand either. Listen. It is so quiet, isn't it?"

Yes, it was. She realized suddenly that the imperceptible sounds of a normal human body was utterly absent, the sounds no human ever noticed because it was simply part of the world from cradle to grave…

Unless one cheats the grave as she had done.

No soft whoosh of blood in her ears. No sounds of muscles and tendons adjusting as she breathed. No heartbeat making her body shift slightly every few seconds.

There was also an absolute absence of pain, pain she had not realized she always felt until it was gone. No aching muscles, no bruises on an arm or a leg, no painful tension in her neck or shoulders. Just a strangely delightful lightness. And energy. She felt giddy suddenly.

"You will be weaker by day, but the myths are wrong about many things. You can walk in the daylight if you wish, and not be set ablaze. As you already have seen, you cast a reflection, and will cast a shadow as well. The rest… is more fun to discover for yourself, so I will let you learn as I did, by experimenting.

"Now Police Girl, you have been assigned by your Police superiors, to join Hellsing. Hellsing hunts and destroys vampires, and as our Master says, the best hunters of vampires are other vampires. Get dressed and come upstairs." His calm almost kindly voice was suddenly hard.

She would rarely hear that kindly tone of voice again.

She knew the myths of course. She had read some cheesy vampire novels (though Dracula had bored her too much to get too far into it), and other silly horror novels. She had seen countless movies about Vampires.

Yet placing herself into these stories was too hard. As he had told her she had to learn by experimenting, or really, simply doing. And it was time to try to learn. No time for regrets.

She dressed in a uniform that had been laid out for her, or most of one; there was not much to it once it was buttoned and settled around her, and moved up some seriously spooky stairs, emerging into an elegant mansion. She was instantly overwhelmed by scents; furniture polish, flowers, gunpowder both fresh and spent and clinging to clothing, food smells which made her stomach hurt slightly, petrol… and people.

Make that humans. Her body set that term straight in her mind. Humans, and they smelled so individual. Each of them was a mélange of scents in their own right. It was so distracting.

"Police Girl, pull your head out of your ass and get outside. You have a lot of work to do." he said with more than a hint of mockery as he appeared behind her. She jumped and whirled, but barely caught more than a glimpse of red before he was gone again. She rubbed her head and moved to obey.

"My Master is so… strange. He's not human, I was right about that… was it only last night?" She said softly, little realizing that her voice was too soft to be heard even if someone had their ear to her lips. Too soft for anyone but he that is.

Still, she felt a warm… something as the word "Master" fell from her lips. It, like calling these beings Humans, felt perfect. Comfortable. Right. _He_ was her Master. _They_ were humans. _She_ was his servant, and _human_ no longer. Her soul quailed at the last part but… acceptance would come for that. She had no idea how to act like a vampire, so she would be human for a little while longer.

She found a blonde woman and an older gentleman waiting for her on the plush manicured lawn. She hurried over to the pair and then saluted.

"Her instincts serve her well already. Seras Victoria, isn't it? I am Sir Integra Hellsing, and this is Walter C. Dornez, my butler, assistant and part-time Trashman. You already know Alucard, the current Trashman." The woman said in a cultured voice. She nodded and smiled warmly at the woman and the older gentleman.

"Pleased to me you, Sir Hellsing, Mr. Dornez. I am Seras Victoria, and I hope I can help here with Hellsing." How she could be of help was beyond her, she had no idea what she was to do. Hunt vampires, Master had said…

"You may call me Walter, Miss Victoria. I am sure you will be a fine addition to Hellsing, all things considered. I am to show you the equipment that we use, assign you some materials, and brief you on tactics and methods of killing Midians. If you would be so kind. Sir Integra, if I may?"

"Yes, please Walter. Alucard, will you be joining them?" Integra asked, voice quiet, yet firm, incredibly authorative.

Alucard… his name was Alucard… she turned to look at him as he pondered. His face was near obscured by sunglasses and the same broad-brimmed hat he had worn before. He nodded slowly.

"Yes I think I will. Walter has never had to train a vampire before. He will accidentally reinforce human behaviors in her. Once he has briefed her, I will explain further about what is pertinent." He said, voice as slow and drawling as Integra's. She felt a tiny frown tug her face. Integra was obviously human, but there was such a striking similarity between her Master and the woman. She could not put her finger on it just yet…

"Come then, Alucard, Miss Victoria." Mr. …Walter said, voice sounding amused. He led them to an outbuilding, styled quite similar to the manor house, and then stood at attention, forcing her to do the same out of habit.

"Midians, as you have experienced, are hard to destroy. Hellsing uses a variety of weaponry do achieve the goal of their silencing. As a vampire, you should know that the same weaknesses the Freaks and Ghouls have you share. Hellsing takes precautions for Alucard already, so helping you handle your weapons won't be a hardship."

"Um, excuse me… Midians? I do not think I've heard the term… you mean vampires, right?" She asked a little timidly, but she had never been afraid of asking questions. How else could she learn, be prepared in life if she did not ask things of others?

"She has only just risen, Walter. And she died less than 120 seconds after I started feeding her my blood. There has not been time to explain… anything. Plus, I am concerned that she's addled. I may have been a bit late in starting her change; she's been a bit slow on the uptake." He murmured. She rounded on him, utterly annoyed.

"I already told you, I am not addled! I was shocked and according to you I did die last night and now I am here in this ¼ of a uniform and being told about Midians and ohhhh!" he was grinning widely, every tooth in his mouth sharp as a dagger. "You're teasing me!"

"I see, Alucard; she can be a little slow at that. Let us hope the "shock" wears off soon. As I was saying, Miss Victoria, Midians is a colloquial term for various once-human and non-human beings. Vampires, ghouls, werewolves, zombies, various shape-shifters, and a handful of other usually undead beings fall under the term. Freaks are a little different though the principle in destroying them is the same.

"Most of these creatures share a dislike for silver and blessed holy things such as crosses, and holy water. While most people 'know' werewolves hate wolfsbane, it also can keep vampires and ghouls at bay."

"Ah I see. Maybe, sometime long ago, these Midians came from one source then…" She mused, absorbing the information quickly. Walter's eyebrow went up. So did his.

"I am impressed Police Girl, very impressed. Yes, most Midians have the same vulnerabilities, but do not grow complacent about this news. As in anything, there are no absolutes. For instance…" He moved to a wall where a crucifix hung and casually removed it from its hook. He walked back and handed it to her. Without thinking, she took it from him. It had not seemed to adversely affect him to touch it…

Her fingers stung slightly. She frowned and turned it over in her hands, unaware of the significant look exchanged over her head between the two men with her. She obeyed the odd urge to sniff it; her mind filled in information she had not even asked for, certainly would not have thought of as a human.

She smelled great age in the wood, decades of incense, oil, sunlight and of all things blood wafting from the wood. The Christ was exquisitely rendered, His tortured body quite gruesome, and made of silver. Warily she touched His face, wondering if she would feel pain, or even be struck dead for her blasphemy. After all, she was undead, and according to legend, was now unholy.

Yet she felt nothing, really. Another mild stinging in her gloved fingertip was all. Still… she carefully used her teeth to tug her glove off and tucked it in a pocket, then tried again. He had said she would discover by doing, right?

The sting was worse, for a second or so. She held her finger to His face then slowly ran the tip over His twisted form. Really, it was… not bad. Just strange. She sniffed the crucifix again then looked up to see two very incredulous men staring at her.

Well, one man and one vampire.

"Does it hurt, Police Girl?" He asked, eyes peering at her over his glasses avidly, like an excited dog waiting for her to toss a toy. Walter looked almost as curious and eager beside him.

"Well no, Master. It stings a little. But the sting fades after a few seconds. _Should_ it hurt me, hurt _us_?" She asked, confused. She knew it had not done anything to him, or if it had he had ignored it. She could ignore the minor irritation of silver if this was all it did to her, sting like touching her tongue to a weak 9v battery.

"I would have to assume not, Police Girl. No, it does not hurt me, but I am not an infant like you are. And as I said before, I am not like those Midians out there. Neither, it seems, are you." He sounded pleased. Walter took the cross back and re-hung it, looking a hint nervous. He must be Anglican, not Catholic. She was pretty much faithless herself. God had allowed horrors to visit her life over and over; she refused to let Him fail her anymore.

"That… is lovely to hear, Police Girl. Magnificent, but be careful, my Draculina. God will bring battle to your doorstep if you are too loud about your little declaration of war with him!" He purred. She frowned and turned her head away, not realizing he had read her thoughts as Walter continued his lessons.

Mainly she was to assist in extermination of the "Scourge of the Land" using blessed bullets wrapped in holy silver cladding, usually with exploding tips (Or mercury rounds in the case of werewolves, who she was informed had a tendency when shot to flee so fast even Alucard had trouble following them, but would die within days from the mercury poisoning even if he could not track them to their dens.) She was shown her personal weapons, a very long barreled sniper rifle, which fired a .50mm round (A bit huge for sniping but whatever) a pair of snub nosed .38's and was promised a new gun soon, one to be made just for her, once they had a chance to observe her and see what she would need to carry.

Then she was led to the firing range… despite the late hour and how dark it was. She took up the sniper rifle as told and sighted, squinting in the dark. The targets were there, but so hard to see in the dark. She fired and heard him tsk behind her. She frowned as the target was reeled back, showing how lame her results were. She had barely been able to see it though!

"No. This won't do. You're shooting all wrong. Watch." He pulled his pistol out, and she gaped at it. It was massive; she had seen pictures of guns like this. This was a Casull .454! The thing was still bigger and obviously heavier than any pistol she had ever seen. The brushed steel shone softly in the moonlight, and she could make out that there was lettering on the barrel…

"Watch, Police Girl!" he snapped, shaking her from her slobbering admiration of the gun. She glanced towards where he was aiming, puzzled.

"But, there is no target set up Master…"

"Yes there is. It is a kilometer away. Can't you see it?" he said tightly then froze for a second before turning his head to look at her. She blinked when he fired while catching her eyes with his, not looking towards the target at all. The gun did not jump in his hand; she was amazed because she knew that the gun's shells were some of the most powerful shells in existence for their size. Yet he held all thirty-pounds standard at arms length without any seeming effort, and that same weight did not move a millimeter when he squeezed the trigger.

Sure enough the target was brought back to them via a golf cart and he had hit it with deadly precision. She slumped.

"But how did you do that? I can barely see a hundred yards in the darkness…"

"We all have a third eye, even humans do, but like you are doing, they ignore it. You must open that eye and let it guide your fleshly eyes. It will become clear soon, and then it will be second nature for you, simple, reflex. Until then, save the bullets. Come with me." He strode off, his long legs eating the ground at a pace she was hard pressed to match.

Then suddenly her legs seemed to loosen, and she caught up easily, though she instinctively stayed slightly behind him and to his left. She heard a pleased sound from him and smiled.

He paused at the wall of the Manor and then looked at her searchingly. "Hmm, no… not yet." He said musingly then slid an arm around her waist. She noticed the length of that arm; he could easily wrap his fingers around his own upper calf without bending his back, that's how long his arms were. It was both freakish, and perfect at the same time.

How odd. Was her brain as altered as her silent heart? So many things were happening, changing, some of the new things she learned felt and seemed so normal that she felt a little impatient having them explained to her, while others made her reel in shock. She had no idea what any concept would make her feel either.

He held her loosely as he set a foot to the wall then swung his other foot ahead of the first and began walking up the aged stones as if he were on the ground. She felt her eyes widen like saucers at this and glanced down to the receding ground warily before eyeing him. His lips were curved in amusement. But more disturbing was the fact that his coat, his hat, even his hair were acting as if he were still vertical, not walking smoothly horizontal, parallel to the ground.

"Um, can I do this too?" She asked timidly. Oh damn. She really had to find a new tone of voice for her questions. "And, how are you doing this anyway?"

"First yes, one day you can do this too, but not yet. You're far too human yet. And second, I can do this because I refuse God's laws. All of them. I do as I please, as do all our kind. That is why we must be destroyed to the last one. It is unseemly to avoid Nature's laws as we do. Gravity is just a minor law though. Breaking its bonds is simple. You will see." He did not seem to care that he was speaking of the end of their race… of his and her existence being ended along with the others out there. She felt a strange chill at it, as if she had been told her days were numbered. If they were the last two, would he kill her then himself? Could he kill her so easily after making her like this in a moment of compassion like he had?

She knew without asking that he could… and he would.

He gathered himself slightly and jumped to the roof, covered in sheets of beautifully tarnished copper and steeply pitched to a central spine along the length of the Manor's roof. He held her still, though not closely. She hung like a doll in his arm, holding it as her feet dangled while he strolled to the spine of the metal roofing then stood on it casually, as if it were utterly normal to be forty-feet in the air, perched on a spot a cat would have shunned as too narrow to be safe.

"I… think I see. Is that why the cross and silver did not hurt you? Or me?" she asked curiously, avoiding the death talk and focusing on his explanation of his, their abilities. He nodded, though she thought she saw a flash of surprise over his face. His glasses were slid down his nose so his red eyes could be seen, glowing softly again.

"Had you any faith, the idol would have harmed you, purely because of your own guilty heart. Even if, unlikely as it would be, you find faith again, remember that the holy things cannot kill you. Hurt, yes. Kill no. Only men can kill monsters, Police Girl. Men, and women." Idol? Oh he meant the Christ on the crucifix, right. Odd to call it an idol.

He slung her around easily and carefully, setting her feet on the spine with him. "Since you are just a baby vampire yet, if you slip I will catch you before you hit the ground. But you must learn of what you can do on your own. So, walk to the far side."

She gulped and froze in sheer terror, arms spreading with a snap for balance. "No. you do not need such gestures. Let your arms relax." He said sternly. She almost shook her head but his eyes flashed, along with his fangs; he was not going to be patient with her after her utter failure at the range. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pretending she was on solid ground and let her arms drop. Her body did not wobble at all, and she realized again that her heart was not beating. Two days ago being here would have had her heart near breaking her ribs as it beat like mad. That beating heart would have added to a loss of balance, she suddenly realized.

"Walk to the far side. Right."

"Walk, do not mince. You're no tightrope walker. You are a Vampire. Now go, or I'll leave you here to learn about what the sun will feel like. Just because you can endure it does not mean you will enjoy it, Police Girl. Baby Vampires find it most painful, though not deadly." She ground her teeth at this threat and started off. At first she did mince along, but the ease of the task soon revealed itself to her and within a few steps, she took a proper stride, then another.

"Oh. I see. It's not so hard, really. It's still a little scary though." She muttered as she walked. She was not entirely trusting of her reflexes, but she made it to the far wall and paused. She turned and smiled brilliantly, rewarded with a brief flash of his return smile.

"Shall I come back?"

"Of course. At a run." He said smoothly.

Oh shit. Really? She froze again and gulped needlessly for air. She had to force the air out of her lungs as her body no longer had an impulse to do it on its own.

Dammit. Ok. Run. Sure. Piece of cake. She gathered herself and sprinted back to him, barely pulling up in time to not barrel into his body. He steadied her as her momentum nearly forced her to the side.

"Well done, though learning your speed should be a matter handled on the ground for now. My apologies. Now then. Come this way." He turned and led her to a spot where the wings of the manor jutted out at a right angle to the main house, then simply flowed down to the wings roof, a floor below and just as narrow as the main roof. He turned and held a hand out to her.

"This may be too soon. Jump, and if you slip I will stop you from falling. You need to trust me, and yourself, Police Girl." She felt prickles of cold as she stared at the slick moss covered spine and then looked at him. He looked a bit bored really, not encouraging, not discouraging. Just bored with such mundane tasks as teaching her these things.

Well fine. She would do it and be sure he did not need to help her. She gathered herself a little, and then relaxed again. She did not need to gather herself, actually. Just jump; just… jump.

She leapt lightly, landing right in front of him and grabbing his arms as her boots sought purchase on the mossy slick metal under her feet. He did not grasp her arms to steady her, but his very stillness helped her regain her balance.

"All right. That is enough for now. Walter has gathered some materials for you to read. I suggest you absorb them; he will likely give you a quiz on it later." She blinked; materials and a quiz? Damn that did not sound fun. Still, getting off the roof _did_ sound fun. He scooped her up in both arms this time and jumped to the ground. Obviously while gravity did not affect him, wind did as his Inverness fluttered around them rather like wings. She resisted the urge to grab onto him as they fell, and was quite proud of herself for staying still and at least looking calm. He landed so lightly she was stunned. After all, he was quite tall and carrying her weight in his arms but he landed lighter than a butterfly on a flower.

He set her down and nodded. "Follow your nose to Walter. Good Evening Police Girl. I will wake you tomorrow, if you do not rise early enough on your own." His voice was mocking, as if he would have to wake a child for the school bus. She scowled.

"My name is Seras Victoria, Master."

"Officer Seras Victoria, to be exact. Rapid promotions seem to go to some children's heads, it seems." He disappeared, leaving her oddly furious. She was not a child, she was the youngest person to ever be accepted into Police Special Forces, one of the youngest women ever to graduate Police Academy in Britain and he was mocking her?

"Oh bother." She growled and headed off to find Walter and start her study.

She actually found the material fascinating. The papers were copies of originals, coded on colored paper so she would tell what to take seriously. Vampire lore which had been found to be useless or in many cases downright silly was on pink paper (As if punishing the words for arranging themselves into stupidity.) More lore with better accuracy was on a soft yellow that would not hurt her eyes, or so Walter had said, bafflingly. And the real stuff, the useful information was on parchment, creamy and stiff, quite dignified. Obviously these words knew better than to be stupid.

"I suggest you start with the nonsense, so you know what to stop believing and what is useless in our missions, then move to the less unlikely, finishing with the real verified information, Miss Victoria. By the way… have you ever read Bram Stoker's Dracula?"

"No. It was kind of slow for me." She admitted. "Why, is it under pink, yellow, or parchment?" She smiled indulgently.

"Oh… I would say it's a mix. Some would be yellow, but much of it would be parchment." He said very seriously. "I have a copy that you should read. It will not bore you this time, I assure you." He moved around the table she was sitting at and moved to the shelves of books. Of course her 'lessons' were taking place in a library. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the book; she had not been scared by it even though she had been told it was horrifying by the other kids at the orphanage.

Of course, if she had known vampires existed after all, she probably would have been scared to death. Hell, maybe it would scare her now…

"Ah here we are. This is a facsimile of the original item I want you to read." Walter said rather cheerfully as he handed her a largish portfolio of loose papers, not a book. She lifted a brow.

"Uhm, this is not a book, Walter Sir."

"No, Miss Victoria. It is the gathered papers from the journals of Jonathan Harker, his wife Mina Harker, John Seward, Lucy Westrena, Abraham Van Hellsing… And Dracula himself, though mainly he annotated and filled in blanks."

She stared at him, trying not to laugh. He looked so serious! "You mean to tell me…"

"Oh yes Miss Victoria. I am being quite serious. Stoker was given some but not all these papers by Mr. Harker, in an attempt to warn the world of the danger it was in. Professor Van Hellsing and Dracula refused to let it come out as a serious work however. It was heavily abridged, and in the end sounds like a fictitious story, but it is not.

"It did happen, and one day, you will understand why you needed to read it. For now, read the other papers, and absorb them quickly. Now, I think it is time for something to eat, don't you agree?" He looked a hint wary as he said the last bit, about eating.

She nodded numbly, gathering the sheaf of colored papers and the portfolio then following him to a dining room so large her parents house would have fit inside twice. She winced and shoved that line of thought aside violently as she sat where Walter indicated. She was not sure if she was hungry though. Her stomach felt funny. Kind of empty but not like hunger really. Just a need of some sort, an urge to fill the emptiness.

Still she perked as a soup tureen was set before her, with a simple tomato bisque inside. She did not notice Walter's gaze as she tried a spoonful.

She frowned. It tasted… well… strange. It even smelled strange. Not bad, but sort of wrong. She swallowed reluctantly and nearly gagged. It almost felt like she had tried to swallow too big a mouthful of something, a pain that flared and died swiftly. She touched her throat; it was not swollen and she felt no pain there at all now. So why the trouble swallowing?

"Is it to your liking, Miss Victoria?" Walter asked with perfect casualness. She nodded and went to work; though it tasted so strange, it did sort of help the emptiness. Sort of. But she wanted something else. Something hotter, smoother, more… more something.

The swallowing problem meant she could not eat much, apologizing to Walter about it and asking to be led to her rooms. She was taken back downstairs to her surprise, and into the room she had woken up in.

"Uh… why am I in a basement?" She asked, glancing about with a sudden feeling of claustrophobia. Being underground, the room had no windows. There was a small nicely appointed bath behind a door, and a wardrobe, the cushy bed and some tables and chairs, but it was dark and close and dammit it was in the basement!

"Vampires can endure sunlight, true, but note the word "endure". Even Alucard dislikes it, and he is much more than one night old. You would become quite uncomfortable quickly in a room above stairs, even with blackout windows, Miss Victoria." Walter said patiently. She looked at him then nodded sadly. He bowed and left her to study.

She did get immersed in the reading, doing as the butler had suggested and reading the silly stuff first. And some of it was incredibly silly. Imagine being obsessed with counting seeds on a windowsill, so obsessed that you cannot move away even when you're surrounded by people wanting to kill you! Or rising from a suicides grave, because you had killed yourself? Or wearing garlic flowers to keep the "vile undead" away from you, vampires who supposedly could not even get into your home without an invite? If they could not get in, then how come so many people supposedly died and often became vampires themselves?

"Didn't these poor people realize they were contradicting themselves with this stuff?" she muttered as she set the pink sheets aside for the yellow ones.

"No they did not Police Girl. They were frightened weaklings scared of their own shadows who made up silly legends with which to comfort themselves since their God had refused to do it for them." He loomed up behind her, silent as the shadows he emerged from.

She half screamed and clutched the sheaf of paper to her chest, then whirled to glare at him. He ignored her as she went from startled and slightly pissed to amazed and slightly afraid. Where had he come from, the door was closed and locked. Yet there he was; sitting in the chair next to her and looking through the pink papers with a highly disgusted look on his face. He was not wearing the hat or the sunglasses right now, so his distain was clear to see.

"I don't think God had anything to do with it, really." She said, and then winced as his eyes moved to hers with a strange emotion in them.

"God had _everything_ to do with it. These idiots who created this nonsense started a craze of murder and desecration of graves that continues today, and it all started with priests claiming to have heard the word of God telling them to destroy the devils minions on earth. Most of the 'vampires' they dealt with were poor humans buried prematurely," He paused as something almost like he was pained flashed across his face, which was gone instantly, "humans with mental illness or congenital illnesses that made them crave blood or they would die. They dug up bodies left and right and when they found someone not decaying as they thought they should be, pinned them to the ground with stakes and cut off their heads, or worse, burned their corpses and buried the ashes at a crossroads for the Devil to come and claim them. Ludicrous, and utterly disrespectful.

"You do not understand I see. These humans had been taught by their churches that in order to rise on judgment day, a human's mortal remains must be complete, as complete as possible. That was why grave robbery was so heinous, and why their crimes against their own was and is still so heinous. They were driven on by priests and con men seeking mere mortal money, and those charlatans got plenty of money for their acts, Police Girl. Disgusting!"

His pale face was now dead white, eyes blazing. He seemed to be taking this very personally. She bit her lip then jerked slightly as her fangs near went through her flesh.

"I did not understand. These papers said nothing of all that. It's really horrible!" She said, his anger shared by her now that she knew the truth. He was silent, eyes suddenly far away.

"I tr… _some_ people tried to stop the madness, but the peasants are ever in love with their stupidity and superstition. Nothing could make them relinquish it, nothing." She blinked; his voice was quiet, but now heavily inflected with some accent, maybe… yes, kind of like Romanian? She sat very still as he rapidly moved the sheets through his hands, and realized he was _reading_ them, reading so fast that it looked like he was merely scanning and moving the top sheet to the bottom to look at the next, until he was done, in under a minute.

"Utter nonsense. I hope Walter explained that this is rubbish? To be ignored the moment you have set it aside?" He held the sheaf up and to her added shock the paper caught fire, burning with unnatural swiftness until he flicked his fingers and nothing but fine ash was left. She nodded quickly.

"Oh, yes he did, and even if he had not I knew it was stupid, even if it is sad." She assured him. He eyed her then nodded.

"Good. It was your comment that interested me, after all. You did see, as through a glass darkly." He smirked a little as she felt her eyes widen; was that a biblical paraphrase coming from an atheist vampire?

"No, not an atheist, Police Girl. I was raised Orthodox, and converted to Catholic not long before I died. But… god and I have been enemies since…" he suddenly rose and walked to the door. She turned and then gaped as he walked right through the stout English oak like it was not even there. She grinned; it should have scared her, but she thought it was cool. Really cool.

"_That_ is why wearing garlic was so silly!" She laughed.

She was almost shocked to hear his return laugh through the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes opened to such utter darkness that she could feel it, like a cloth over her body. She did not feel quite as rested as she liked. And that emptiness was in her belly again.

She turned on the beside lamp, stretched then peered around in case he was at her bedside again. Since the room was empty, she assumed she had beaten his ideal time for her to wake. She hopped up and dressed in her uniform and then sat to finish her assigned reading. She had gotten to the parchment paper and was a little stunned.

The first pages were more like police reports of sorts, explaining vampiric activity in various locations in German with English translations attached and the steps taken to "silence the target". Some of the reports were over one hundred years old, and were written in such outlandish handwriting that she could barely read it. All these older reports were signed by one man; Abraham Van Hellsing.

She frowned; Walter had said Abraham Van Hellsing was in Dracula… she pulled the portfolio around and opened it; the first pages were filled with gorgeous photographic portraits, most dated 1885, and sure enough one Abraham Van Hellsing was pictured in one of the portraits. She was not sure she liked his face. His head was wide, with hair that waved back from his face. He had a very tight jaw and piercing eyes that had probably been blue. His eyes were oddly familiar.

"Oh! Sir Integra! Of course, Sir Integra Hellsing, why did I not catch that?" She whispered. Somehow knowing this was not a flash of triumph for fitting a puzzle together.

It scared her, near terrified her. What had she been pulled into? This Professor Hellsing had been killing Vampires for a good chunk of his life according to what she had been reading, and so his children and their children were doing the same. Which meant that vampires were a serious, unending problem.

And she was a vampire herself now. Why had she not been killed? Why had he helped her, saved her only to drop her into… Hellsing, a family that killed his, and now her own kind. Why, how could he kill creatures like himself? How could she be expected to do it? Something in her hissed and snarled at the thought, while part of her wanted to save lives. Human lives. Lives were being lost all the time to these other vampires whom she had yet to lay eyes on.

"_As our Master says, the best hunter of vampires is another vampire_. He told me that right away. And he said we do not really have the right to live. He kills them when he…"

"Miss Victoria? Have you risen yet?" Walter's voice came through the door as he knocked on the wood. She did not jump, too enmeshed in her thoughts to even be startled.

"Yes Walter, come in." She called, carefully putting the portfolio away when one of the sheets flipped out of it and fluttered to the floor. She bent to grab it, but Walter beat her, despite being barely inside the doorway a split second ago. She blinked in confusion as he took up the paper and then peered over it at her, his gray eyes serious and a little concerned.

"Did you review the portraits yet?" he asked a little tightly.

"I was looking for Professor Van Hellsing's portrait, so I did not really look at them yet, I'm sorry!" She said nervously, wondering if she had been meant to stay up all day reading the portfolio. She was surprised when he relaxed and smiled at her with relief.

"I know it will seem strange, but Sir Integra and Alucard have insisted you not see this particular portrait until a later date. I must say I disagree with the order, but they were most adamant." Walter said, seeming just a bit embarrassed and annoyed. She blinked at him then quickly spread the remaining pictures out with a surprisingly graceful flick of her wrist. She did not realize she was emulating his speed reading ability to an extent as her eyes moved from one face to the next. She looked up, eyes dark.

She knew which portrait they were hiding. But why?

"I see. Why am I not to see it? Was he so very scary?" She said, voice dripping with scorn. Walter frowned deeply at her.

"The _image_ is not 'scary', Miss Victoria. _He_ was terrifying however. _He_ was very frightening _indeed_. And the picture… yes I think I understand. You need some time before you see this portrait. I promise, I will show it to you when you are ready. It will make everything fall into place. I swear it.

"Now, we have a mission. I took the liberty of crafting these for you, to make your night easier." The old man said and smiled a bit proudly. "These" were simply a pair of military boots that laced to mid calf. She took them and eyed them dubiously.

"Thanks? Um, no offence but they look just like the ones I wore last night. How can they help make my night easier?" Walter smiled indulgently.

"You would have a difficult time, or at least a very uncomfortable trip without these boots, Miss Victoria. These boots contain earth from where you died as a human. Alucard went there and got me plenty of it so we can make more pairs of boots as needed." She felt her jaw drop then closed it with a snap.

Of course. Supposedly vampires could not cross water. She had read a quaint vampire novel that explained this very idea; vampires had, according to this book, been using this trick to make walking in sunlight and crossing running water possible for them. If she remembered her fellow orphan's whispered synopsis of Dracula, he even was carried in a crate of earth, making travel far from home possible. So that was a truth of her new life? She had to be aware of dirt and keep it on her? Bother.

"I can see you thinking, and no. You have already shown some interesting resistances to things other vampires would hate. For instance, the crucifix? And the Holy Water used in the tomato bisque last night." She stood so fast she was a blur and leaned at him, eyes blazing brilliant blue.

"You did what? You tried to _kill_ me?! Isn't holy water supposed to destroy vampires?!" she snarled; and she was snarling, just like an angry she-wolf. Walter's eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, but otherwise he did not seem too affected by her rage.

"I most sincerely apologize Miss Victoria. We never had a _new_ vampire about before, and since you handled the silver, which was blessed by a cardinal, by the way, so very well, Sir Integra and myself wondered if the holy water would bother you. To your credit, Alucard said it was stupid to try it, that you would not be harmed by it." She felt her throat with a grimace as she remembered that her throat had hurt with every swallow, and how oddly the soup had sat in her stomach.

"But it did hurt. I could barely swallow it, and it made me feel so strange. Like I had eaten wet cement." She admitted. She felt a soft breeze then Walter was patting her arm, sighing. He had moved around the table with incredible speed, almost as fast as she was, yet he was not a vampire… so odd.

"You obviously are not aware that vampires cannot eat complex foods. Your body will find anything you eat to be too hard to digest very quickly, Miss Seras. It will not be long until you will have to abandon human food entirely and subsist on blood alone. But do not worry. We will provide you with blood purchased from blood banks and other medical institutions. You need not, indeed will rarely be _allowed_ to take blood from a living person." He said comfortingly.

She was not comforted however. Not even a little.

She would have to drink blood… of course she would. She was a flipping vampire, dammit. Somehow this little glaring fact had eluded her last night. Vampires drink blood, it was pathetically obvious, the most known thing about them, the most feared thing about them.

About her.

Well dammit. "I… see. I would still like normal food until I can't eat it anymore, Walter. If that is okay I mean." He nodded and patted her arm again. It was comforting.

"Of course Miss Seras. May I call you Seras?"

"Please Walter, of course. Calling me Miss Victoria made me feel like an old spinster auntie!" He chuckled at that.

"Now, change into those boots and hurry upstairs. They will be ready to move out shortly and you must be prepared as well. Do not forget to get your equipment from the bunker."

She nodded and switched out the boots, noticing that she did feel oddly better, a little less… empty and tired. She hurried up the stairs and literally bounced off a wall that should not have been there. It certainly had not been there yesterday. However the wall chuckled and grasped her upper arms with warm fingers, letting her know that it was not a wall at all, but his chest.

"A little more attention to your surroundings is in order, Police Girl. Despite all our strengths, we are far more vulnerable than the humans around us. Lax attention can mean a true death for you." She looked up at him with a small frown.

"I am sorry but I am not sure what you mean." She admitted sheepishly. She braced for his scorn but he took her seriously. After all, she had not yet had a chance to finish her studies, and he had not really told her very much about what she now was.

"Never underestimate your limitations and their freedoms, Police Girl. You are limited, weakened, even utterly helpless by day, and they are free to move at will, to seek and destroy day or night. Yes you have inherited a fine immunity to silver and holy water, but shrugging off decapitation? Ignoring being staked to your resting place? Do you think silver and crosses are the only weapons they can use against you?" he said firmly, voice serious and without the mocking edge she had heard so often the night before.

Well no, she supposed when he put it like that, she did realize that she was a bit vulnerable at that. Plus, she did not know everything about what could harm or kill her yet, obviously. She bit her lower lip then winced as her fangs went through her tender flesh again.

She really had to break this habit of biting herself. Especially since his eyes lit so obviously that she could see them blazing behind the red, mirrored glasses he wore. She watched, fascinated despite herself as he sniffed the air quite obviously, rather like a dog catching a scent. My but that was… sexy. Yes, quite sexy. How very strange to think, yet she did think it. Luckily he had not seemed to catch her very impure thoughts about him.

"Enough about your pathetic weaknesses. You are wearing those boots Walter made? Good. You need them to fly in the human's cursed helicopter. I will meet you at our destination…" He disappeared, as was his want apparently. She really wanted to know how he did that, and start doing it to him. He was so frustrating, and damned insulting. Her 'pathetic weaknesses' indeed!

She would show him, somehow. Just how, and when she did not know, but damn, she would show him!

She ran out to the bunker and grabbed the supplies laid out for her; that huge ass .50 caliber rifle and several pouches containing extra magazines. She then ran and found the pad with the helicopter waiting for her on the roof of one of the manor's wings. Eyeing it warily, four stories up, she made a decision to not run inside and frantically search for a staircase up there.

She eyed the walls and chose to let her new instincts guide her. Could she climb those walls?

Yes.

Okay then, could she run up them as he did?

Not yet, but she could jump up them… her feet and hands could find purchase at various points.

She gave herself a little running start and not thinking too hard about it, jumped up to a windowsill, the first point she had seen. Her body gracefully leapt to a second floor window, then to a point that was so small, a brick barely jutting an inch from the walls… yet her foot landed there barely a half second before she made her next jump, and then the next until she landed with a soft plop on the roof. She smiled widely, quite proud of herself. She ran over to the helicopter as the jet engine began to scream, the props starting to turn.

She sat where directed in the heli, fidgeting nervously. She was sitting with one leg over the side and felt like she would fall out, but the men with her in the helicopter simply laughed when she asked for a strap or something for securement. She was too timid and confused to argue or demand one. The trip reminded her what he had shown her the night before on the roof, what her body had just shown her as she leapt about on the face of Hellsing's hallowed walls; she had incredible balance now. She was never in any danger of falling out of the opened sides of the vehicle.

She was dropped off, alone, onto the roof of a building and told to await orders. She was cradling the massive gun, rifle… hell it was a monster of a gun! But it must be made of composite, because it felt like a toy in her hands. She sighed then stiffened as she heard gunfire not far away. She already knew the sound of that gun; he was blasting something to hell down there somewhere.

No, not something. Someone. Some vampire.

She sighed and waited, then realized she did not have any sort of communication device on her, not even a cell phone! Well gee, how could she get orders, instructions, warning that it was time to leave? She slumped a little; great. She was straddling a roof spine again, holding a stupid huge gun…

His gun stopped roaring suddenly, and she listened with all her might knowing he was likely to show up and scare her right off the roof.

Your turn, Police Girl. Your target is running south.

She blinked and peered that direction; yes, she caught movement. She lifted the gun quickly, and then paused.

"Master, she's so far away and I don't even have a scope!" she saw long hair fluttering behind the target, and assumed it was a girl. A girl vampire, fleeing from a grisly scene, by the smell she was just catching; blood and gunpowder mixing in her nostrils.

_Human complaints, Police Girl_. He was suddenly floating just a bit to the side of the roof she was perched on. She kept her eyes on the fluttering movement of the girl as he spoke, his voice lowering, deep and somehow soothing. "You have a third eye, open it and let it guide you. _Look_, Police Girl."

She felt her body react to his words, her eyes closed then snapped back open. Her vision opened for lack of a better word, eyes rushing along the now massive distance between them and the fleeing girl. Her hands flexed as the night brightened; she could see the girl so easily now. Her finger tightened on the trigger, and she blinked as she heard the report, saw the bullet leave the barrel and unerringly hit the girl dead center of her back, literally punching the girls heart out of her chest. The girl did not stumble; she simply slid gracefully to the ground, her long hair fluttering around her prettily before she suddenly disintegrated into ashes.

She stared as the ashes fluttered in a breeze she did not feel.

Very good. You see how easy it was? You were a fine shot in life I am sure, but now you can shoot a fly off a horse's ass from a kilometer away.

Okay, the night was as bright as day now. She had fired the gun, which she knew had a powerful trigger that she should have struggled to pull, yet had felt like a hair trigger, and there had been no recoil. A .50 caliber should have kicked her right off this roof. And… well damn she realized suddenly that his voice was in her head, not in her ears. Telepathy? Wonderful.

"What… is happening to me? These changes… too much. It's too much too fast." She said softly, looking down at her hand. She looked the same, maddeningly so. She even felt the same… for the most part.

Until his lessons and jibes that is. Walking or jumping up walls, fingertips tingling at the touch of silver, simple soup making her feel like she'd eaten the worst Chinese food ever…

"It's too much…" she whispered, hand clenching.

"Hmmm, no, not yet. In due time. There is no rush." She heard him murmur behind her, but she ignored him.

"All right Police Girl, back into the helicopter. Our Master will be pleased; we've been here less than fifteen minutes. Very clean and quick." His arm slid around her again, pulling her close to his warm side as he floated swiftly to where the heli waited. She huffed slightly; she could have jumped down. The house had been a mere two story, and hadn't she jumped up Hellsing's three stories a short time ago? His laugh was mocking, but he said not a word as he dumped her out of his arms twenty-feet up in the air. She squealed then landed with a soft plop, utterly unharmed and graceful, like a cat. She still shook her fist upwards at him, though he was already gone…

She was greeted warmly by Walter who immediately wanted to grill her on her assigned reading. She stumbled through the oral exam, mainly because she was startled by it and because her mind was whirling through the things she had done and learned tonight so far. Walter seemed content with her answers however and led her to the dining room, where more soup was set out, along with some bread so soft it was more like it was not baked long enough, and butter. The soup was much better but the bread, she could not swallow it. The butter she could lick from her finger, but it was like trying to eat something too rich and thick, already hard but not impossible to swallow.

She sighed and finished what she could of the soup, then quailed in horror when Walter set an ice bucket with a packet of blood in it before her. She flashed terrified eyes at him; she felt like running away and hiding from that innocent silver container and its vile plastic covered contents.

"Walter, no. Save it for Master." She said with a trembling voice. Walter hesitated then took the bucket away. She fled the scene, grabbed her remaining study material and sought a refuge anywhere but where she could be found easily by him or Walter.

Of course, she could have run to France and he would have found her easily. He stood over her silently as she sat behind some slightly run-down outbuilding that looked to be unused at the moment. She ignored him as best she could, reading in the starlight with no strain to her keen eyes. She was proud of herself that she did not glance at him other than when he had arrived. Yet he was so still, and so quiet… she was still human in her mind and her experience. It was so damn hard not to say something to break the silence, uncanny, almost preternatural…

Wait. It _was_ preternatural. She strained her ears and heard nothing at all, not the men patrolling the compound, not the soft rumble of vehicles warming up, the men refueling the heli… nothing but the softest sigh as the wind moved by them, making his coat move, her hair flutter, her papers rustle. They were cloaked in a soft and utter silence that only they could fill. She calmly set the papers aside and put a convenient rock on them to hold them down, then folded her hands in her lap.

"Yes, Master? What can I do for you?" She asked, still not looking at him. She waited, the toe of one boot in her vision but nothing else visible, and she damn well would not look up to see his face. Part of her cringed at the thought; he would surely look disappointed with her.

"Walter did explain that you cannot process human food for much longer. You should at least augment that with some blood until you are forced to blood alone, Police Girl. This is sudden, yes, but you are not human anymore. You made this choice so you could cheat death. No humans were harmed to provide that blood for you. Refusing it is sentimental and silly. It also forces me to watch you closely. In a few weeks you could be so starved that not only will you be weak, sleep and the human food not giving you any energy, if you can even swallow it by then; but you could easily start eyeing the humans around you and attack. If you do that I will have to… stop you." He sounded almost eager for her to snap like a rubber band so he could shoot her dead-dead.

She nodded her understanding. "Is that all?"

"You are such a bother. No, that is not all. Our Master has been asked to clean a freak infestation in Ireland. I for one wish to test your ability to travel over the water with just those boots to assist your mvement. Are you game?" she looked up at that and shocked them both by grinning.

"Why not? What will happen if the boots can't help?" He smirked and shrugged then headed back for the heli, which she could hear again. "That bad, Master?" she called as she jogged after him.

The trip was fine. She felt nothing at all, no dizziness, no weakness, not even nausea. Her eyes were slyly on him as he sat stock still across from her during the entire trip. Obviously he had no issue with water, or else he had soil in his heavy boots as well. Probably, like herself, it was both. She admired his sharp cheekbone as the waning moon caressed his dead white skin. Who was he really, and where had he come from? Where had he been in his long life? She imagined it was a long life so far; he knew a lot about Medieval peasants and ancient church customs… what else did he know about?

Restrain your mind's volume a little, would you Police Girl?

She hissed in embarrassment, her cool cheeks stinging. She was unaware that the blush she felt as throbbing red barely stained her pale skin; no one else noticed at all.

He **is** using telepathy! Dammit, if he can hear me, why can't I hear him unless he 'talks' to me? She almost wailed mentally, though she remembered his admonition to be more quiet.

Because I know how to keep my mind private. But then as you guessed I am old and have done and seen many things. One day you will be able to keep me out, or actually, not let your mind shout so that I can hear you so easily. His voice was calm with an undercurrent of warmth, and wariness. She sensed his curiosity, about her. He had let her 'hear' this sensation, she realized, as he pondered her existence. Something about the things done to him made him wonder what she would be like, and if those things were what had left her addled.

"I am not _addled_!" she hissed, pleased that her voice was so quiet only he could hear. He laughed just as quietly, making her growl and ignore him for the rest of the trip.

She sat on the steps of an old academy, listening to the huge Casull roar, the sound somehow conveying joy in its explosive, reverberating bangs. She sighed and stared at the moon, wondering why she had never seen a red moon before, until she had become this. Had she just never had eyes that could see this bloody tint? Or was it just his presence making the moon cast such an unwholesome glow?

She heard his current magazine empty, the slide slamming back for a new round and staying there when nothing popped up. It sounded hungry. _Come along Police Girl, it is your turn now_. She sniffed and blinked, then winced as he near bellowed into her head. _Move your ass now Police Girl_!

"Oh damn, yes of course, I am coming now!" she yelled, the glass in the windows near her vibrating and cracking at the volume of her shout. Luckily none actually broke, as the poor institution would have enough clean up to do. She kicked in a door and padded into the hallway running along the front of the building. Confronting her was a small horde of ghouls, already stinking as their skins were decaying far too quickly.

"Okay, they are dead-dead, and they cannot be cured. Okay, so one shot and it will be over. Right." She said softly, giving herself a pep-talk. She released the safety on her gun with a soft doubled sound. Suddenly the shuffling undead started for her, too stupid to realize that her blood, her body heat was not a human's, and she likely was not very satisfying to eat because of this.

Before the first of them had taken a full shuffling step, she was firing, and hitting each of her targets, not a bullet wasted. Take that Master.

"Police Girl, some kindness to the poor things. They did not ask for this fate. Be sure to hit their brains or their hearts, and end their suffering. Some of your shots are just increasing their pain." He said with a strange edge to his voice.

She heard him but simultaneously had noticed the scent of blood filling the air. Despite how they looked these ghouls were actually freshly dead humans as well, barely hours dead. The blood flew as she finished her magazine and dropped it, tossing it aside with a flick of the wrist that caused the metal to embed itself a half inch into the wood floor. She smirked; her last shots had been true, thanks to his advice, but now…

She turned and leered at him, her blue eyes darkening alarmingly. From blue to violet to purple to blazing red, she held his delighted gaze without a flinch. Her eyes swept over him, covered neck to toe with his oddly immaculate red Inverness then fixed on his face once more. He lowered his head, peering at her with equally blazing eyes over his glasses.

"Yessssssss, my Masterr…" She purred. Her mind was both clouded and yet more clear than she could ever remember. Suddenly she whirled and smirked as the slowest bullet ever shot leisurely swam past her head. She did not register anything but delight that the thing had missed her by inches, her eyes falling on a more ambitious ghoul with a large and now empty gun in its rubbery hand. She licked her lips, nostrils twitching. The scent was like heaven, all the blood and death around her…

Darting forward so swiftly that she was not even a blur, but appeared to have dematerialized, she slammed her delicate elbow into the ghouls chin. Its head rocked back with a sickening, lovely crack that gave her chills of joy. She stood over it, her fangs bared in a smile like a Cheshire cats.

Or maybe _his_ smile.

She set her foot to his chest then purred. No. Not his chest. She slid her foot up the things neck and pressed her dirt-filled boot onto its head. It began to make a strangled noise as she pressed down with excruciating, exquisite slowness. Behind her, she barely registered that he was coming closer. She could almost feel his smirk, bloodthirsty and enjoying the show she was providing. She grinned wider, her face a travesty of its normal sweetness as she barely leaned onto her foot and its head popped like a water balloon. Blood sprayed mainly onto the floor.

But some splattered up onto her, rich crimson droplets that refused to seep into her clothes, her gloves.

"You seem to be getting the hang of your new nature. Since you got rid of the ghouls, we need to find the Vampire that made them. Kill it and any ghouls left will die…" His voice trailed off she slowly lifted her hand to her face, her tongue stretching out…

The smell, she could already taste it, iron and darkness and rich. She felt her eyes droop half closed as she sensually bent to meet her rising hand, to partake of her rightful trophy.

She heard it, barely. Something cutting the air. Something sharp and deadly, something aimed at her. She felt a slight shove, then a most unsettling sensation of air moving through her neck before pain registered, stabbing pain in her neck, that shifted to a burning instantly. She felt weakness start to flood her, but ignored it.

A blade that shined in the red moonlight was poking out of her neck, the tip already trickling her blood along its length to drip leisurely to the floor between her feet. She was frozen in shock for a full second. She heard him gasp then growl something, maybe "Who?!" or "What?!"

Then she tossed her head back and screamed in horror. The scream was cut off as twelve more of the blade hit her, all in the back, many shoving right through her so they were sunk to the hilt in her flesh. The weakness was instant and she fell to her face, unable to even try and catch herself. She tried to pull her arms forward, shove herself up, even a little. She coughed, blood tickling her throat and lungs, blood trickling down the blades and making an ever widening puddle under her.

Distantly she heard whooshing, as if some flock of birds were flying in formation along the walls. She felt something shift in the hallway, a subtle yet palpable change in the air, making it even harder to move. It was like a bad dream, where you are fleeing a runaway truck but your feet wont move.

"… the hell is this?" His voice drifted into her ears, somehow comforting even as his tone conveyed that he was off balance and a hint confused. She tried to lift her head again and gurgled a soft moan of pain. He moved a hint closer to her, but did not move to help her. Instead, she saw him tilt his head, and then she heard what he had.

Footsteps, coming down the old staircase. They were slow, perfectly even. Whoever it was did not seem to be in any hurry. When finally the other person came into view, she gasped again, blood oozing from her lips and her neck. He merely pulled the Casull from thin air and smirked.

The man was tall, incredibly so. His short blonde hair was a charming mess of shorn blonde strands. But his face… was horrible. A scar divided his tanned cheek, and his eyes were wide behind round wire-rimmed glasses, blazing green and filled with madness like the fires of hell blazed behind them. Those eyes terrified her, and yet…

She had seen those eyes before. Not the shape, not the color. The madness, the bloody glee at the thought of carnage to come. Her eyes snapped to the man's mouth when he grinned. His teeth seemed normal, and yet his incisors were just a hint too long. And his arms were nearly as freakishly long as… as _his_ were.

Was this a vampire or a man?

"Wha' a lovely moon we 'ave tonight! Is this not sew, munsturs?" the man said in a rather Scottish accent, and she resisted a snort of terrified disgust; _monsters_? The pot was calling the kettle black here! Just who and what was this guy? She hissed in pain again, more blood gurgling from her throat. His cold green eyes shifted to her and he smirked wider. It made her cold all over to see it aimed at her.

"Ah, such ah lovely voice ye have, li'l ladeh. Yu're so beautehful writhin' in pain so. But, yeh are not a'dyin' yet, nevur fear. I avoided yur accursed un-batin' heart, yu seeh. Didn' yur master teach yoo anythin'? Anywhey, I rareleh get to pley wit' real vampires, so I intend to enjoy this, in answer to tha' question in yur beautehful bleu eyes." She cringed slightly then laid still as he prattled his speech, trying to pretend she was not in fact scared of true death. But her façade broke when he spoke in reply to the blonde man-thing.

"Ah I see!" His voice had that edge of that Romanian accent again. How odd. "I know who you are. From Section XIII, the Iscariot Division's Paladin Alexander Anderson." His eyes were firmly hidden behind his glasses, yet his delight at what was surely coming, a bloody, violent fight was obvious in the curve of his lips, the tilt of his head, that soft eastern European purr. She felt her eyes widen; why had no one told her of this monster's existence before?

Then again, did it matter? Obviously she was not equipped yet to deal with such a force of nature as this Anderson guy.

"Ah such a clevah beastie. Correct, yuh lap dog of a Protestant whoure!" Anderson stepped forward, and he stepped forward, matching him to the inch. They had a rather leisurely conversation as they strode closer and closer towards each other. She had never seen a samurai movie or she might have recognized this posturing as respect for a powerful opponent, each offering something like silent praise for the other's warrior skills.

"An' yur theh vampire Aluucaard, I presume? The domesticated wampyre that kills 'is own kind."

"Where are the vampires that made this pathetic trash that we cleaned up for you?" he drawled curiously, though even she knew what had happened to them.

"Sad weaklin's Theh are gone of course. Didn' even put up much o' ah fight. Boring." Anderson said with insincere casualness. They continued to pace until they had passed each other, now back to back, each male's right shoulder nearly touching. Their feet smacked the ground as they drew to a halt, the sound somehow shaking the floor she was laying and bleeding on. The tension was so thick she could feel it on her skin.

"So now it seems… onley the two o' yeh are left." Anderson said with quiet glee.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice a caressing purr, as if he were flirting with the blonde man behind him. Suddenly both were in motion, Anderson with a blade (were those bayonets? How freaky!) in each hand, and the vampire with his massive gun in his right hand. Amazingly, the blades were driven home into his neck before he could actually shoot. However, Anderson was now unarmed, unable to fend off the massive bullet that immediately blew out the back of his skull, sending him flying. His blood started pooling around him as he slumped against a wall.

He turned towards her, pulling the blades free and tossing them aside with seeming casualness. However they were buried half their length into the floor, a testament to how very pissed he was.

"Master!" she cried, amazed she could even speak at all.

"Quiet girl." He slowly knelt in front of her, a smirk playing his lips and revealing his fangs. "He faced off a vampire in the middle of the night. Brave yet stupid. Yet, he was quite strong, don't you agree, especially for a human." He shrugged. "These damned bayonets were blessed and bathed in holy water. Even I felt pain from them. Now, hold still and I'll get them out of you so you can heal."

Her eye shot past him as she saw movement. To her horror the Paladin was moving… he was alive? No… not just moving and alive… he was alive and standing, moving with utter silence towards them once more. She gasped, too weak to point.

"Ma-master!" she half screamed. He shushed her, possibly thinking she feared the pain of removing the blessed blades from her already aching body.

"I said do not talk, you'll waste energy." Suddenly his eyes were boring into hers, though how she could tell through the glasses she had no idea. His face registered that she was not afraid of pain, not for herself at least. Drawing air somehow into her perforated lungs, she screamed a high ringing cry.

"Master!" He froze as he sensed what she had seen, had warned him of, just as several blades thrust through his back, narrowly avoiding his heart.

"The hell!" he hissed as he leapt over her like some demented beast, and the very alive, not very dead, very smirking Anderson began to laugh. The sound chilled her blood, what was left of it. He spun about mid flight and fired two rounds at the strangely ambulatory Paladin, who was knocked off his feet, only to flip back upright in a split second. Anderson spun about to face them again, his vestments swirling around him grandly.

He fired again then grimaced in shock as his right arm was grabbed in a grip of steel. A human's arm would have been pulped under the pressure, she was sure. So fast she could barely see what happened, Anderson had pinned his right hand to the wall with a bayonet, forcing the .454 from his grasp. She blinked then gaped in horror as she realized both of his hands were pinned, his back pressed to a paned window, his face snarling with fury and pain.

Anderson calmly drew two more blades and slid them together, the edges screaming a song of death that made her teeth clench in agony. She heard a strange hissing sound then a plink as the bullet fired into his brain forced its way out of his forehead.

"Aaaaaaaahmen" The paladin said with silky voice.

Utterly disgusting and terrifying. How the hell could this be happening? How could they stop this…

"A regenerator!" he said, voice actually awed. His eyes widened, the light falling on him in such a way that his shocked red eyes were clearly visible through his glasses.

"Currect. A weapon bred to extinguish flames o' evil such as yeh." Without further ado, the blades in Anderson's hands sang through the air. At least twenty bayonets had pierced his torso, blood trickling then running from his lips. Every major organ in his body had to have been punctured twice!

"Master!" her throat hurt as the scream left her lips; as she watched in horror, his eyes went blank, and his head lolled to the side, a gruesome caricature of death impaled to the wall, the window behind him shattered as bloodstained glass tinkled to the floor.

The Paladin began to laugh, and laugh and laugh more, his sanity level falling as if he was exhaling it with the manic sound of his amusement. She shuddered and shoved herself to hands and knees, the blood flowing slowly down the blades and into the puddle around her. It is not that big really, she thought absently. Her training as a cop told her that she had half her blood left still, most likely. Bad news for a human but she was probably still able to handle the loss.

She hoped.

She then looked up in time to see Anderson slice off his head, and with an amazing if short-lived burst of energy bolted the other way, too horrified to endure the Paladins presence any longer. Besides if Anderson could kill _him_, what could she do against the Regenerator?

She reached back as her steps slowed and pulled one of the blades from her side, wincing at the double assault of pain; the blade cut her worse as she freed it, and burned her fingers with its blessings as well. Obviously while silver was not so bad by itself, nor holy water, the two combined were a bit much for her. She ground her teeth and continued to work the blades free, next pulling the one from her neck. Slowly she advanced, seeking a door or an unlocked window. Somehow the windows were all locked, and she was growing too weak to force them open. Breaking the glass would be too noisy, and she knew the helicopter and support team were too far away to hear it, or even her voice most likely.

She finally reached back for the last of the thirteen blades and moaned pitifully as she tugged it free. Instantly, despite the continued blood loss, she felt better, her strength starting to return. She tossed the blade down between her feet in a fit of disgust, the tip sinking 1/3 of the way into the wood. She made a few more steps then heard a strange hiss in the air, just before his head slammed into the wall, impaled by yet another blade.

"Master? Master Alucard?!" she wheezed in terror. His face was blank, the stump of his neck no longer bleeding, though a trickle of blood trailed down his chin. She reached for him then froze as the Paladins voice slithered through the darkness behind her.

"And just where do yeh think yur goin'? Runnin' is useless yeh know." She turned as he stepped into view, smiling with good humor, eyes lost behind the glasses she had barely noted before.

"Dust to Dust, for dust thou art, an' to the dust thou shalt return… Ah-men!" His arms spread wide, his hands nearly touching the walls on either side of him with their vampire-like reach, each dangling a bayonet. She looked away from him and ripped the blade that held his head out of the wall, sliding the thing out of his skull tenderly, and then cradling it to her blood-soaked stomach, started moving away as fast as she could.

_I have to run, I have to get out of here, I have to report to Hellsing… I have to… this is impossible, it's just too much_… Her thoughts were disintegrating in panic as those heavy footsteps came after her, that insane laugh sliding the air like one of the bayonets. She dug for more strength, shifting her grisly burden to one arm and ignoring the taunts from the Paladin tracking her. He seemed to be slow, but then she was still bleeding, leaving a trail a child could follow.

"Run little Draculina… such a mighty vampire yeh are!" She ignored him, seeing the door that had been kicked off its hinges, leaving a welcome exit to the outside. She reached out and then gasped as golden light crackled, burning her hand worse than the blessed bayonets had.

"What?! What… is this?" She asked, not expecting an answer, just muttering from human habit.

"This is a barrier, my child. A barrier no unholy bein' can breach; not even yur accursed masteh could do it." Anderson's voice was almost tender for a moment before it filled with unholy glee once more. "Now then. Bow down and accept yer death, Abomination."

She felt her eyes widen as her head turned, seeing creamy parchments along the walls, over every window, held in place with Anderson's bayonets. She blinked and her vision shifted slightly; she could see the walls floor and ceiling were pulsing with golden light, shimmering prettily in its deadly intent.

She was utterly trapped with a monster wearing a man's skin and a dismembered head in her arms. She was clutching his head like a child's safety blanket as she felt her panic overwhelm her utterly, at last.

I am going to die… I'm going to die… I'm gonna die! True death, right now!

_This is not the time to panic, Police Girl_. She did not jump at the voice in her head, his voice, underlain with a rich chuckle. She looked down at the head in her arms and to her alarm it began to melt, slipping through her frantic hands before she dropped it in shock. The head went to nothing but liquid that started flowing about, quickly rearranging itself into words, scrawled cleanly across the wood in a smooth, archaic sort of lettering.

Drink my blood, Police Girl, and be freed of the thrall of servitude. You will truly become one of our Vampiric race. Drink of your own will, walk with your own strength, become one of the immortal kin of the night. Drink my blood, Police Girl… No, Seras Victoria!

She blinked at the message, and then felt the Paladin looming behind her. She literally had no time to drink, even if she had wanted to.

And she did not want to.

"It's ovah, Abomination!" Anderson purred, as if he were telling her he loved her, not that he wanted her dead. She did not turn, but heard a click then bullets screaming towards him. She whirled around and saw a figure emerge from the shadows, smoke wreathing Sir Integra Hellsing's face.

"That girl is _mine_." Integra took a drag from the cigar clenched in her teeth and let the smoke drift loose from her lungs as she continued, "What are you trying to do here, Paladin Alexander Anderson?" The heiress tilted her head slightly, looking blandly curious as two men stepped up beside her, obviously brought along as bodyguards.

"Ah, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing herself. I never expected the General to come to the frontlines herself." Integra clamped her cigar in her teeth for a few seconds then growled.

"Father Anderson, you have already severely violated the treaty between our churches. This area falls under our jurisdiction, added to which we were _asked_ to come and purify this house of education. I am asking you to leave immediately; if you refuse, then both of our churches might be imperiled! Never has Section XIII been so rash before!" Her words were reasonable, implying she was willing to forgive and forget. Yet…

She turned and bolted, ignoring the message written in blood on the floor. She found her gun, her worry, anger and grief giving her a second wind. She hurried back in time to see that the Paladin had not disappointed her expectations of him.

Integra's guards were literally cut to pieces, their blood staining the air as well as the floor. Integra herself was holding Anderson barely at bay with her ancestral sword. She could just see Integra's face from her angle; her defiant glare was heartening.

"Poor lit'le Protestant, yer losin' an' don't even know'it. Yer pet vampire? I already cut off 'is head; 'e's dead!"

She saw red at this, scrabbling in her pouch with numb fingers. She had to load her gun, quickly.

However Integra's face made her ponder, her fingers slow. The smirk on Sir Hellsing's face was oddly triumphant, and yet kind of cute too. Like a child who knows something the adults around it do not.

"You what? You cut off his head? Was that all?" Integra asked with her voice dripping acid. Anderson pulled back a hint, radiating confusion.

"Wha' does that mean, _Was that all_? Vampires die when decapitated!" He reminded the Knight with a tone that implied he felt she had gone off her head. Just then her fingers grasped some shells and she slammed them deftly into the gun. She panted needlessly for air, her body soaked with sweat and blood, yet she stood with her legs spread, the gun steady in her hand.

"Let Sir Integra go now, you sick monster!" She hissed, not realizing her voice echoed everywhere, as if radiating from the walls themselves. Integra smirked wider as she released the safety and aimed at the Paladins head; any lower and the bullets would go through him and into Integra with fatal results for the Knight.

"You have no chance of winning now, Anderson. Retreat while you can count yourself lucky to be alive." She drawled, her voice reflecting just how much she was enjoying his confusion.

"Shut up whore! Have yeh gone mad? I'm about to slaughter the both of yeh…"

"Well, hurry it up then, before that vampire you thought you killed comes back to life." Integra said casually, still smirking superiorly, eyes still wide with that hint of mischief in them. Just then she heard something… like flapping, even as she waited for the order to fire. She knew Integra wanted to end this peaceably, but the urge to kill that monster was hard to fight off…

A bat fluttered by the window next to her. She could not help glancing at it, wondering what had caught the little thing's attention… then realized it was _inside_ the glass, and its tiny eyes were glowing red. "What the… seriously? A bat?!" she whispered.

_Why didn't you just drink the blood, you idiot_? His voice sighed in her head. She blinked as the bat and about a billion more (Ok, maybe a few dozen but they were everywhere) attacked Anderson playfully. They swirled around him as he slashed his bayonets, tugging his hair, slapping into his back, easily avoiding his wild swinging arms.

"But Ah severed his 'ead and stabbed his unbeating heart with silver!" Anderson complained, obviously confused and angry. Integra chuckled, arms crossing and shaking her head.

"Do not fool yourself into thinking he is a normal vampire. Normal techniques of silencing will never defeat him. He is the results of over one-hundred years of research and tempering…" The bats had been grouping closer and closer together, their shrill cries quieting as they started melding into a single mass, and that mass took a shape quickly.

His shape, more or less, resolving with a slightly different look. His jaw-length hair was now down to his knees, his gray suit was pitch black and seemed to be made of velvet instead of… whatever it normally was made of. His grin was aimed at Anderson, yet she saw it clearly, never more glad to see his mad eyes and Cheshire cat grin. He spread his arms, his hair lifting as if in a hurricane, then he let his arms fall, the red Inverness forming from what was left of the bats. She grinned happily, near sparkling with joy.

"Master!" She chirped. His eyes swung to hers and he winked before falling back to watching Integra and the Paladin. His motion was so fast she was sure that neither human had caught it.

"So, have you made up your mind, Father? Stay and be butchered or go as I asked oh so politely a moment ago?"

"Ah will go, after a wee test!" Anderson snapped and leapt at him, bayonets in hand. He did not dodge, but leaned forward and ran right into those silver blades. Suddenly he pulled up and both arms dropped off his body at the elbow. She gasped in worry at the sight. Anderson turned and smirked happily, ready to attack again, but was forced to pause

The arms suddenly… re-sprouted was the only way she could describe it. New arms shot out of the stumps left by the bayonets, not only perfectly formed, but with new coat sleeves and the Casull in his right hand. He lifted it as he swiveled on one heel, his free fingers flexing and making the most disgusting cracking sounds, as if he was forcing broken bones back into place. She breathed a soft sigh of relief.

"Well damn yer eyes…" Anderson muttered, shoving his glasses up his nose.

He nodded and grinned manically. "Yes, and the rest of me too." Anderson snorted at the quip and then sighed.

"Ah will retreat fur now. Ah think Ah need to do some research and be better pr'pared afore Ah come back. Next time…" he pulled a massive bible from nowhere, there was no way his cassock had been hiding that thing, and flipped it open. The pages of the tome flew loose and whirled around him, shrinking tighter and tighter to his form before flying to a window, the glass exploding outwards as the pages flew away.

Quite a trick that. Further proof to her that he was far from human, closer to her kind than a man. She sagged suddenly, feeling weak as her adrenaline rush abruptly stopped. She turned her head as she heard footsteps, still on edge and half expecting the Paladin had returned for a last hurrah. But it was only Integra approaching her revived Trump Card, a small frown of concern between her smooth pale brows.

"What is it?"

"Ah nothing. It's just been a while since I lost my head. So, that's the infamous Father Anderson." He said, voice a happy purr. Obviously he had had a grand time while she and Integra were being attacked and stabbed and…

Okay, Integra was probably just fine, but she felt like she had been run over and kicked and mauled.

"I am shocked by the blatant breach of our agreement. I will make the Vatican pay for this, and pay dearly." Integra said, her voice oddly casual as she threatened one of the most powerful organizations in the world. "But now is not the time; while you two were purifying and getting your asses handed to you, I made some discoveries."

She slid to her knees and cradled her gun, fighting dizziness that was making her nauseous. She felt her belly heave and crawled into a corner to lose her small supper of soup and water. She barely heard a disgusted sound from Integra.

"The girl… How well did she perform, Alucard?" Her head snapped up, vomiting forgotten as she eagerly awaited his verdict on her performance.

"Ah the Police Girl? She did okay, I guess. Not a performance worth awarding a medal for, but… yes, she did a decent job, and she is still alive. Barely."

She fell over then swiftly jumped to her feet, chagrinned and also annoyed; she had to clear something up that was really bothering her. Bravely she lifted a hand and snapped, "Master!" To her worried delight he swiveled on his heel and peered at her.

"Hmmm? Yes Police Girl?"

So far so good.

"Um, sir that's just it… You see, my name, it is not Police Girl. It's Seras, Seras Victoria." His eyes narrowed as he started to turn away, face descending into his upturned collar.

"Do be quiet. Little cowards do not deserve names, and so you are Police Girl, and Police Girl you will be." She gaped at him then sagged sadly.

"You're so mean! I call you Master as I should, but you…" She almost sniffled.

"Why did you make her? It's so…" Integra said softly, eyes on her; she could just feel her cool blue stare.

"Why? Who can tell… It was her choice, not mine. Maybe I did it for sport… or because I was curious… Maybe, after all this time among your family, your fellow humans, I am developing a sense of whimsy…" He replied, pitching his voice so Integra could hear him.

"Police Giiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrl, Don't dawdle!" he called, his voice almost warm, certainly cheerful. She looked up and saw his long hand waving for her to follow him. She hopped to her feet, exhaustion forgotten as she darted past Integra, who was musing with a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"Such a strange answer… still I suppose I should not expect less from an UnDead King… or a Count." The Knight's chuckle was amused as she pounded after him, not really paying attention to the conversation between the Knight and her King.


	3. Chapter 3

She had gotten up and braved the sun to have some supper. The bread she tried actually was not bad this time, she also enjoyed the butter which was not as rich as before, and yet she was already tired of soups. However, she knew without even trying that anything more solid than very soft bread and soup was simply beyond her ability to swallow. Hell she could barely even stand the smell of vegetables, though the lingering sent of blood in meat made it more appealing. However her belly let her know with its thrashing about inside her, that if she dared to put even a tiny sliver of any meat into her mouth, she would be very unhappy with the result.

After supper she had retired to the Library, which was comfortingly dark and cool and smelled so heavenly with the lingering scent of polish and lemons and paper and old leather. She had been working on Dracula, carefully reviewing what surely were real documents; hand written journal pages attached behind type-written transcriptions. Newspaper articles on paper that was holding up well, but still made her nervous to handle. Photographs, some portraits done before the events of the book had unfurled, some during that timeframe, and some taken after the events, which she was surprised to discover happened in 1885, not 1892 as most speculated (According to the little introduction written by hand and tucked into the front cover of the folio.)

Only one player's image was absent, the one player who for obvious reasons interested her the most. That Dracula had been photographed was a surprise; weren't Vampires not able to be photographed? Then again she could see herself in a mirror, a myth she had heard before thus shattered.

She was nearing the end and making notes. By now, there were addendums more and more often; location names had been changed to protect the people who lived where the climax of the tale happened. Mina Harker was far more obviously involved with and working for Dracula than the published work made her out to be. And Abraham Van Hellsing had obliquely made some sort of plans for Dracula that did not involve killing him. However he was expressing doubts about the fate of Mina Harker if he did let the Prince live…

Prince? Oh yes, the real Dracula was not a count but a prince in Romania… She turned to her notes. No, at the time he ruled Wallachia, later absorbed into Romania along with Transylvania. In fact Romania was born not long before Dracula tried to flee to England. Maybe he had wanted out of the new country he suddenly inhabited.

She sighed and decided to get away from the sunlight for a while. It was overcast true, but she was feeling a bit like she was getting a sunburn, her skin tight and a little hot. She carefully put the journals and whatnot away, wistfully wanting to see Dracula's picture, then trudged towards the stairs. Walter slid into place behind her, making her nervous.

"Walter Sir, can I help you?"

"Oh yes, I was hoping to show you something we have done for you. It's in your rooms." He did not sound very excited or happy about this thing. That made her even more nervous.

When she saw the change she went stiff with rage.

There was a coffin on her floor. A pretty coffin, certainly, made of dark hard wood, and lined with silk not satin, complete with a pillow. But she was horrified by the idea of sleeping in a damn coffin.

"What. Is. This." She rasped. Walter peered over her shoulder at the box.

"Oh this? This is a coffin."

"What. Is. This. Coffin. Doing. In. My. Room!?" The rasp was now a hiss.

"Oh well, Sir Integra ordered this for you. _How can a Vampire not sleep in a coffin_? She said. Yes that's was exactly what she said." She glared at him then looked around the room wincing.

"And just _where_ is my bed?" Walter bowed politely; always a bad sign during such a scene, as she had learned in the past week.

"I have already had it removed of course." Her wail of denial shook the room, making dust fall from the stone ceiling. Walter was un-amused, though not angry. He was annoyingly unflappable sometimes, and now was a good example. Her growls did not intimidate him in the slightest.

"Furthermore, Alucard also insisted upon this change." That gave her pause.

"Master… ordered me to sleep in a coffin? But… but why?" She found her anger was gone, a sinking feeling of being browbeaten into acceptance taking its place, even though it was just Walter relaying the news gently. She should be glad he had not come and forced her inside he cursed thing himself at bed time.

"You have been a vampire for a while now, but have never drunk a drop of blood. He warned that if you do not sleep in this coffin, you will grow weaker and weaker." He paused, and she drooped. Great. Damned if she did drink, cursed if she did not. She shook her head and eyed the admittedly pretty coffin. It gleamed in the soft lighting of her room. Still it was rather disturbing and it looked kind of small and lonely, just like she felt most of the time.

"Miss Seras, may I ask why you do not drink it? Do you not like it? I understand if you do not wish to kill for it, but we have a fine supply of the donated blood, humanely gathered and even paid for. It is ethically clean Seras." Her eyes darkened and she drooped, sighing needlessly.

"I don't know. It just feels like, if I drink it, I will lose something… and it will be lost forever. I don't know what it is, it frightens me to jut give it up." There was silence for a moment as both she and Walter digested this statement.

"She is so different… fascinating." Walter said softly, musing and probably not intending for her to hear it. She felt a little hint of acceptance for her in his thought though and it heartened her somewhat.

"Useless little fool." His voice suddenly filled the room even though it was not loud. Walter's head turned leisurely as he appeared in the doorway. She gulped, chagrined.

"If this is so, why did you drink my blood, let me drink yours to begin with? You could have died with this precious thing intact and not endangered as you feel it is now.

"Instead you chose the path of darkness. The night is part of your soul, and it demands a price for that merging. Listen Police Girl, once you set off on the journey into the darkness, you cannot return to the sun…"

She hunched slightly, his words like a physical blow. She bit her lower lip gently, not puncturing herself this time, and her eyes fixed on him, filled with a soft accusation. He had not explained anything to her that night. However that was not entirely his fault; there had been simply been no time. She had been dying far too fast for a discussion of the impacts, ethics and practicalities of becoming a vampire. Still… she had read in Van Hellsing's reports that vampires can read minds and blood. He had to have seen what she was, who he was making into one of his own. And he had not ended his transformation.

He had made her this, and for the first time, she wondered why. It had to have been more than guilt for killing her in the line of duty. Why then was he berating her for her choices, then and now? He eyed her, his head turning to the side a little, and she was surprised to see he was biting his lower lip as well.

"Forget it. Now and then a vampire like you rises. It does not bother me, so go ahead and tip-toe along with baby steps." He said, eyes flicking to Walter. Walter shifted a bit and she heard the butler's skin scrape his shirt as he nodded, accepting some sort of silent admonition. She smiled a little then nodded, relieved. She knew that if he wanted to, he could make her life hell, force her to drink, even kill her, yet he was sanctioning her to grow into things at her own pace. Her gratitude was immense, making her cheeks flush like the palest pink roses, and her blue eyes glow… like his did.

"Yes, Master. I understand, and I will learn. I will try." The smallest smile curved over his thin, sensual lips at this, and she felt a tiny touch to her cheek, as if a ghostly hand was stroking her skin. Then Walter spoke and it was gone.

"By the way Alucard, I have completed your request." The butler smirked wickedly as his red eyes lit with interest.

"Oh? Have you really? So quickly, I am most curious." She came and stood behind him, peering around his left shoulder as Walter produced a large pistol case from somewhere.

"I was going to bring this to you…" Walter grunted; the case seemed to be heavy. He set it on the table and opened it smoothly, without flourish. A flourish would have been useless; the gun inside was an eye catcher as it was and needed no frills to introduce it.

It was black as night, and was half again bigger than the .454. There was a fine scrawling lettering along the barrel that said "Jesus Christ Is In Heaven Now" with a cross etched behind the words; testament to his lack of reaction to holy things. She remembered suddenly that Paladin Anderson's right glove had the same saying on it. She felt her eyes widen with amazement; she wanted to play with it immediately.

"And this is?" he drawled, though she could hear his barely restrained delight in his voice as he watched Walter lift the gun with some effort. The butler was wiry and strong, but even so his muscles bulged under his immaculate shirt as he hefted the gun one handed and slammed the equally black clip included in the case home with a surprisingly soft click.

"Our new 13mm pistol. It is a radically different design from the .454 we previously designed for you. It weights 16 kilograms, is 39cm long, and carries six bullet clips. No human could wield this weapon; it would break that humans arm if they could even squeeze the trigger at all. We've named it the Jackal." Walter laboriously flipped the gun in his hand so he could take it, his fingers lifting it like it was a child's toy. His face was for once not mocking or ironic, but filled with open wonder.

"It uses 13mm armor piercing rounds…"

"The casing?" he asked casually.

"A special alloy we've designed, using gold among other things."

"Gunpowder?" His eyes were glowing ever brighter as the gun's properties were offered to him.

"Macedonian NNA9 formula" Walter said smoothly, though his face showed that he was pleased with the reaction to the gun so far.

"And the bullets?" He had not moved a millimeter, standing posed with the gun aimed at the wall, his arm not even quivering under the strain of the massive weight of the gun. It did weigh as much as a human toddler, in a far smaller package, after all.

"A unique and blessed amalgam, including silver of course." He purred like some great beast, radiating pleasure and the lust for the hunt. It was obvious he was madly in love it Jackal.

"It's perfect Walter. Utter perfection!" The butler smiled and bowed.

"I am pleased with your approval. I do my best."

He lifted Jackal close to his face and hummed. "I am betting that even Anderson cannot handle my new toy." His smile was near bloodcurdling. She moved closer, eyes wide; oh she wanted one of these too! She unknowingly bounced on her toes, hands held away from her sides, as the urge to grab it was almost too much to resist. He'd certainly be pissed if she tried. She pondered his statement.

"Really Master, do you think so? Is it that magical then?" He chuckled and nodded.

"Nothing I shoot with this will ever rise again, not even The Thing from Iscariot, Police Girl." She smiled up at him, little realizing her face reflected his bloodthirsty grin perfectly. He seemed to take pleasure in her enjoyment of his new toy, even crooning his approval under his breath too softly for Walter to hear. However the butler's voice broke into their reverie over the Godly Jackal.

"I took the liberty of designing something for you as well. The 50mm was just not… dignified enough for you, Miss Seras." She blinked; she was getting a gun too? Was it a companion to the Jackal?! Oh goody! That's right, they had said they would watch her and create a weapon for her based on her performances and personality!

She bounced eagerly as Walter bent behind the table. She heard a grunt beside her, ignoring it and the fact that her bountiful breasts were bouncing with her. She was outlandishly curved, and often forgot this fact. He leaned slightly closer to her, smirking oddly. She glanced at him and assumed that he was pleased with her eagerness for a better weapon; on this point they were in utter agreement. They both loved guns. His eyes were hidden though, so she was not sure what that expression was, why he licked his lips like he was thirsty. Maybe because he was thirsty?

Walter struggled with a huge case, half again longer than her table was, groaning and panting once it was laid out. Unless they were giving her eight Jackals, and somehow she doubted that, this was possibly a Gatling gun, or a tank cannon or… Whatever it was had to be huge and heavy.

Walter cleared his throat and smiled so chillingly, yet with such pride, it was kind of scary to see. "This is a 30mm cannon designed to eliminate every form of undead known to man; the Harkonnen. It has two types of rounds; depleted Uranium rounds, and explosive rounds, for punching through walls or tanks, any armor or aircraft would never repel these shells." He slung the gun out with a huge effort and stood the butt end on the ground. The gun was massive, longer than Walter was tall; and Walter towered over her by nearly a foot. Even he was shorter than this… this…

"What the bloody hell is this thing?!" She shouted suddenly, pointing with one hand while waving the other around like she was having a fit. Maybe she was having a stroke from shock; could vampires have strokes?! How could she possibly… carry this monster? It had to weigh over fifty kilos!

She felt his hand on her shoulder very briefly, patting her soothingly with his warm fingers, which lingered for few seconds against her neck. She swore he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, low on the nape of her neck but then his hand was gone.

"Actually Police Girl, I think it is as perfect for you as Jackal is for me. Plus Walter is correct, that ugly thing you've been carrying is beneath you. You need a beauty like this in your arms." She felt her skin tingle and looked up at him curiously. Odd… she had the distinct impression he was not talking about guns…

Walter launched into more talk about their new weapons, explaining the foundry process, what mix was used for the projectiles, how he had designed Jackal himself, and hand poured the bullets for it, how pleased he was with Sir Integra's design for Harkonnen…

"Sir Integra? She designed this gun for me? But… why is it so big then? I mean another girl must realize I am dwarfed by the thing! Girls want nice guns, can't I have a Jackal too?" She paused then grinned nervously. "Not that I am not grateful! I mean I am, it's an amazing gun but…" Walter chuckled.

"I do believe she is living vicariously through you, Miss Seras. She can only watch as those under her have the fun. Plus, in some situations she might need Alucard in the field and you here to defend the Manor. Who better to protect her and how better to equip you than with anti-aircraft capabilities, just in case? Since Iscariot seems to be declaring war upon Hellsing…"

She chewed her lip again, crossing one arm under her breasts and resting the other hand on her cheek. Well, he had a point. Still, she would love to have some nice, kick-ass pistols as back up. She felt his body heat suddenly as he loomed behind her. She looked up; with him this close she really had to flex her neck, though she felt no strain doing so as she would have as a human. He was looking down at her with a shockingly warm smile. She smiled back; she could not help it. His smiling at her so was so rare, she basked in it.

_It truly is perfect for you. And there is truth in Walter's theory. Master loves guns like you and I do and she really never gets to kill ghouls as often as she wants to. She hates the fools that rise in the night to attack innocents. It soothes her soul to kill those who threaten her county and its citizens. Be honored by her gift_.

She nodded, brightening a bit; yes, she had to admit, despite its size, she did love it. It called to her. She felt the urge to cuddle it like a teddy bear.

Suddenly she heard gunfire, faintly. She frowned as he slid his glasses down his nose, his eyes boring into hers, yet they were also unfocused as if he were concentrating very hard on something else. She felt his mind doing something to her; her third eye opened wider (It had never really closed once she had opened it) and it was as if she were not in her body anymore. Amorphous she flew up the stairs and saw…

Ghouls everywhere. They were armed and carried huge shields, their hollow eyes and gaping jaws barely visible above them. Hellsing's soldiers were valiantly fighting them but they were losing; whatever the shields and helmets the ghouls wore were made of was too strong for the standard bullets the men used while on the grounds. No one had ever anticipated an attack by the undead here, at their headquarters. What a mistake!

She gasped, her vision splitting as it were. She still saw the fighting, but also saw him staring at her. She realized he was carrying her disembodied self, taking her with him as they explored the carnage. She felt Walter turn towards them, but he did not speak, sensing Master and Fledgling were involved in something he dare not disturb.

"Walter, the house is under attack. I suspect someone leaked the news about the Conference to our ambitious enemy." He drawled as if unconcerned by the devastation occurring above. Walter gasped then nodded. She saw a door on the third floor which they moved through; Sir Integra sat at the head of a long table, many men she had never seen before sitting around it and staring at her as she held a phone to her ear. The Hellsing tapped a code into the keypad and then they were back fully in their bodies. She felt a hint dizzy, and blinked her eyes. Then the phone in her room rang.

Walter immediately answered. "Yes, I am here. I am in Officer Victoria's rooms in the basement, and Alucard has explained the situation to me. He and Seras are here as well. I assume all communication lines are broken and it will take at least five hours for back up to arrive. We must protect the meeting room until then." She heard Integra gasp.

"How do we do this Walter?" The Knight's voice was tinny through the phone, but she heard it easily.

"Simply block the passageway, hold them at bay. There is only the one door, luckily. We will commence a surprise attack."

"How will you get here? There are ghouls everywhere, the whole house is overrun!" Despite her words, Integra sounded rather calm; instead of panic, rage shook her voice, not fear.

"Have you forgotten? It has been ten years however… How did you find Alucard then, ten years ago?" That statement baffled her; what did it mean? How did Integra find him? Why had she had to find him? Wasn't he always just here?

"You mean… though the vents?" The rage faded slightly, a slight tinge of hope and wonder in the Hellsing's voice now.

"Yes. Wait a few moments, Sir Integra. We will be right there." She heard a deep breath being sucked into furious lungs.

"Walter, those bastards have eaten my men. Do not show them mercy! Do not let even one of them get out of here alive!" Integra's voice was a furious purr, more frightening than any roar of rage. Walter smirked with smug, unholy joy.

"Of course, Sir Integra. Of course." The line clicked off. She heard him start to chuckle behind her.

"Oh how I have wished to see the Angel of Death unfurl his wings once more! To see Walter release his ruthlessness again… it will be a fun night indeed."

"Um, what are you saying? Angel of Death? Walter, ruthless? Seriously?" She blurted.

"You will see for yourself soon enough." She turned to eye Walter, who looked surprisingly dangerous. His gray eyes were sparkling with something that made her skin crawl.

"I may be an old man, but I do have some tricks up my sleeves, Miss Seras." She frowned; what the hell was going on?

"Is there not one normal person in this place?" She muttered before sensing that he had left, taking Jackal and its clips with him, leaving her with Walter, and her new gun.

"Now Miss Seras. Let us get to it." Walter said briskly, moving the table under the vent in the ceiling. "Grab the gun and the ammo cases please, and hop up. You should lead the way as I do not carry a firearm." She nodded, for once not hesitating. She felt a strange rage sweep over her; someone had invaded her home, threatened her Mistress, killed her comrades. Her vision tinged with red.

She would make them pay for this, pay dearly, as Sir Integra said of the Vatican.

She gathered her old service pistol, her personal 9mm, the Harkonnen and its ammo cases, then jumped lightly to the tabletop. She stared at the vent for a few seconds. Jump or climb with her burden?

_Jump. Trust_.

She jumped and then paused again, the Harkonnen light as a feather yet a little awkward, slung over her back via a strap it never would have had if humans were lugging it about. Which way?

_Follow your Eye_.

She set off crawling quickly in the direction that felt right, amazed at how clean the vents were. She heard a grunt of approval from Walter as he followed her, closing her vent behind them, just in case.

"Why is Master not coming?" She asked quietly. Walter puffed slightly, crawling behind her with amazing speed.

"He is supposed to be coming through the house, but I do not hear his guns. Maybe he sensed something he had to investigate first."

"Well damn. We'll just have to do this alone, somehow." She was a little nervous, but also still pissed all to hell. She wanted to flatten a head under her boot again.

_No, no I don't! What the hell is this? I just want to save who I can, and silence the enemy, right? I do not want to rip them to shreds with my bare hands! I don't!_

It was a very short time, all things considered, to make their way up to the third floor. Walter followed her without question, to her great pleasure. He trusted her vampiric instincts more than she did. She heard several voices, one frantic male, one calm and utterly dignified male, and one Sir Integra's. She shoved the grating below her hand and it sung down on a hinge. She moved to drop down feet first, but somehow got a bit tangled. She giggled, oddly finding the fact that her derriere was dangling into the room quite funny, before her body, without orders or warning, folded itself impossibly and she fell square onto one of the men's faces with a squeal. His chair toppled back, her rump firmly planted on his face as they landed with a thud. She was not dislodged, but was a bit startled, sitting on him and rubbing her head.

"Hello Sir Integra, sorry if we're late…" Integra had quickly folded her hands over her chin and lips, but she could hear a most untimely and utterly feminine giggle come from the Knight's lips anyway. She smiled wanly at the Hellsing, who took advantage of the fact all the other occupants in the room were staring at the odd image she made sitting on one of their number's faces, to wink at her young vampire.

She felt displaced air and looked up as Walter landed hands first on the table, then sprang away with incredible grace, landing beside her. He bowed to Integra, mumbling an apology for their tardiness, and then turned and offered her a hand.

"Are you all right Officer Victoria?" He was as amused as his Mistress, obviously. She smiled and took his hand. Yes, she should stand, the man's nose was poking her behind rather painfully now, and his huffing for air was making her nervous as he puffed against her skirt.

"Oh yes thank you, I am fine." She was hauled to her feet; okay there might be something about this stuff, saying Walter had tricks up his sleeve. Tricks like incredible strength and agility… and that bloodlust in his eyes. She shuddered slightly; if that look was ever turned upon her, she would run screaming.

"So, Walter, what is the situation?" Integra asked. She carefully bent and helped the hapless man to his feet, righting his chair which she sensed he could not have lifted by himself; it was old English oak and very heavy… well for him it would be. She lifted it with one hand and helped him sit, smiling apologetically.

"Are you all right Sir?" She had been briefed about this conference; all of these men were Knights of the Round Table and the British Empire, a secret group determined to protect England and her Majesty from any and all supernatural threats, as well as anything that fell outside the broad yet not utter coverages of MI5 & MI6. Some acts of terrorism planned by humans were handled by this group, as well as the eradication of the Undead, Werewolves, Zombies, Ghouls and the newest threat, Freaks. She remembered her briefing on this new problem…

Integra had sat her down herself to brief her on this new development, not trusting her Trump Card to explain it well, and not wanting Walter to downplay the dangers of this new plague so she would not be afraid or not fully prepared. They had enjoyed some tea while the Knight smoked a cigar, her voice quiet, calm, yet redolent of anger and worry.

"We have discovered that we are fighting a new species of vampire, Seras." She had nodded, pleased that Sir Integra used her name and not Police Girl. "You see, I had been wondering for a little while about something strange that started a little before you joined us. It seemed odd, that sometimes, even after Alucard silenced the vampire at the heart of a ghoul attack, the ghouls did not die. This rule is carved in stone for your kind; ghouls are animated and controlled by the vampire that creates them. Alucard has explained that vampires have souls, they are just tainted with darkness…"

She felt her face freeze. Tainted? With Evil? Her soul was damned? But… she had not harmed anyone ever in life or unlife! That was so _unfair_! Integra paused and to her amazement reached her hand across her desk to rest her cool gloved fingers on the distraught vampires.

"Oh Seras, no. I did not mean… Please listen more closely. Alucard did not, nor did I say that vampire souls are tainted with _evil_. He said _darkness_ and that is what he meant. Your nature is not _evil_, Seras. We spout about how evil your kind are… but I suspect that despite the magical abilities, the things your race can do, that you are simply another creature under God. Everyone has darkness within, even animals can do horrible, unnecessary and cruel things to each other. It is a choice, being evil. You have a choice to be good or to do evil… and I have faith you will choose wisely."

She nodded, heartened but still afraid. "I understand, thank you Sir. Please, continue?" she waved at the covered Petri dish on the desk, which Integra kept touching who not revealing like some nervous bird pecking at the same spot over and over, seeking and not finding something it wanted.

"Good." Integra seemed pleased with her calm acceptance of her pep talk, and her eagerness to learn. "As I said, vampires have souls. When they are killed, those bitten and infected but not completely turned can be released from that vampire's control. Any ghouls made by that vampire will die, often going to ash even if the ghoul is only minutes old. So when my men reported that they had seen ghouls continue to shuffle about after Alucard had destroyed their creator, I thought they were crazy, or mistaken… Maybe they had the timing wrong. No one is perfect after all. They might have thought he was done with his part when he was not.

"However. As this had happened only twice before you joined us, I thought it was a fluke, or we had not found the right vampire, the true sire of the ghouls we were cleaning. Maybe they were working together, one making ghouls to back up the other? Odd but not impossible." She took a deep drag of tobacco and held it before letting it trickle from her lips. Her eyes were far away, her voice soft and wondering.

"When we sent you to Ireland, we were lucky enough to have security cameras, running on generator, to film the whole event. Due to how I suspect you feel about that evening, I will not show you the footage, but it was final, conclusive proof that the men were right. Paladin Anderson had killed the vampires, two of them, before you and Alucard were finished with their ghouls."

"So, even though Father Anderson had killed those vampires, the ghouls did not die as they should have?" She asked. The whole Ghoul vs Vampire thing was still new to her.

"Correct. I asked my Vatican attaché to request Anderson's report for his superiors. Though he did not mention it at the time, he did express later some confusion and concern about the fact that he could hear gunfire for several minutes after he had silenced the vampires upstairs. He explored the entire top floor, as Alucard had the bottom floor; neither found another vampire on the premises.

"I had a feeling about this, so I had the cleaning team gather everything, every body part, every speck of ash, ghoul or vampire that they could find. Their efforts were rewarding." She watched Integra pull the Petri dish closer and using some very long tweezers, lift a strange silicon chip from its bed of some sort of solid gel. Integra looked at it with distaste.

"This chip is one of approximately twelve found among the vampire ashes. We're not close to unraveling them, but we know this. They are transmitters, probably meant to track and monitor the vampire they are implanted in. They contain minute amounts of an organic material, which we are trying to sequence DNA from even now. I suspect that the organic material is vampiric.

"Seras. You must be prepared; I suspect that the vampire you destroyed that first night, and the ghouls in Ireland are connected. Two vampires were at both infestations, though the couple you and Alucard silenced had not made ghouls; thanks to their lust for violence, they had mangled their victims too badly for them to rise. Both incidents had a couple involved; both couples had been trouble makers who delighted in delinquency. I suspect they were recruited, that the enemy has found out how to make a vampire artificially."

She gasped in horror and disgust. Her pride for what she was, and she did feel pride about it, was writhing in rage. Making vampires artificially? Meaning these fools had no Master as she did, had no teachers, were simply found, made without any initiation, and then set loose like plague rats? Her lips rippled in an incensed snarl, which made Integra smile wickedly.

"Yeeeeeeees, Alucard did exactly the same thing when I told him, and for the same reasons I suspect. You must be sure to destroy every ghoul you can find at any future incursions, Seras. These ghouls can infect with their bites, but they can only make new ghouls. They are, as you have seen, often shuffling about with weaponry now, which is also new. Usually they could actually be ignored since felling their maker stopped them. Herding them along, or simply shooting them as they came at you was simple; not anymore.

"Do not fail Her Majesty, England or me, Officer Seras Victoria. You will Search and Destroy all Midians, created or natural as it were. Is that clear?"

She jumped to her feet fluidly and saluted. "Yes Sir, I will do as you command!" Integra nodded and saluted back, a rare thing.

"Dismissed. I will have reports for you to read soon. Please do your best to explain what they contain to Alucard. The only technological terms he really understands or cares about is gunsmithing and the properties of blood. But he will need to understand as much as any of us what we are dealing with. He is old, and the old hate changes." She blinked at this; he could not understand scientific reports? How odd. She nodded and left…

Now she listened with half an ear as Integra and Walter made plans, focusing when they asked her to help barricade the doors better. She had no issues with the heavy furniture, shoving massive hardwood armoires and desks and sideboards against the oak doors. Walter outlined his plan for her, making her worry instantly.

"You're what? You're just going out there? Alone!? With me in the doorway here with cover fire? Walter are you mad?!" She hissed, eyes wide. Integra merely chuckled. One of the men stood and nodded his head at her respectfully. His energy and expression made her feel like she was in the presence of a king somehow.

"I am Sir Islands, Officer Victoria. Let me assure you, Mr. Dornez is fully capable of handling this, with little assistance from you. Whatever is left when he is finished you can handle easily with your bloody great cannon there. Now, please help us move the table so we may present a unified front to the invaders in the unlikely case they break through your assault." She stood straighter, his authority comforting and crushing at once. He reminded her of Sir Integra times a hundred.

Once more she shoved furniture about, having to move not only the table but all the chairs as well, as it turned out they were so heavy that it usually took two people to move them so the cleaning staff could vacuum the carpet under them. Once she had the table set up on its side behind them, their chairs, turned to the door, Walter nodded and slipped off through the small crack she had been ordered to leave for him. She resolutely walked to her new gun and moved to lay it on its bi-pod, then waited. Walter would give a signal, or he would fall and she was to shoot to kill anything and everything in the hallway.

It did not take long actually. She heard footsteps, and then a slender young man appeared, wearing a black track suit and strange knit beanie. He was muttering vile threats to Sir Integra, bringing that tint of red to her vision again as rage tap-danced down her spine. Yet she waited, as the man and his frightful companions strode further into view.

They stood in amazingly orderly formation considering that they were ghouls, who normally could barely shuffle along upright, much less behave so alert and orderly. As they came into view, a door opened, and Walter emerged, looking relaxed and almost happy. The young man paused, the ghouls following suit, all of them seeming wary, though reading a ghouls expression was a pointless exercise. Then she distinctly heard a strange hissing whine, just before the cigar the man had been smoking (filched from Sir Integra's office no doubt) suddenly fell away as if cut cleanly but something invisible. For a split second, the man merely blinked in confusion. Then the ghoul to his left split in half, making a mess as it collapsed. The man was good; he only turned his eyes to watch the gory display.

"Oh my, I missed? I suppose it makes sense, being that I am not as spry as I used to be." Walter mused, his form in shadow, his voice gently mocking. She blinked herself; what on earth had just happened? She could smell something, like silver and… something else, and hear that soft hissing as if something large but nearly invisible was writhing in the air. Her third eye opened even wider; yes there it was. Arching and writhing from Walter's fingertips were wires, now singing a song of violence as he casually strode towards the man.

"Jan Valentine was it not? I am Walter C. Dornez, the Hellsing Family butler, former Elite Trashman for Hellsing and Her Majesty and her Majesty's Father the King. Now that introductions are over…" he swung his arm over his head, the wires utterly obvious now that she had seen them once.

Jan Valentine snapped his fingers with a look of boredom on his face. "Fire." He said simply; his voice even when he spoke the one word was utterly disrespectful. However, she saw Walter move like lightning, shifting to the side of the hallway so the bullets screamed past him as the ghouls mindlessly and inaccurately shot straight ahead of them. Her eyes followed him, but even so she knew most humans would have lost sight of Walter by now. She wondered if Jan could see him, or if he was as new as she, and being from the enemy, without a master, a teacher… as she waited, the ghouls around Jan had no idea what was happening as Walter easily wound the wires around their heads.

"Too slow. It's clever, using ghouls as an army. They are tough, obedient, and do not feel pain. But a ghoul is just a ghoul. They are slow, stupid, and thus vulnerable. These have a long way to go before they are worth the expense of arming them." He tugged on the wires, which suddenly were much easier to see, due to all the blood staining them as the ghouls were sliced to ribbons. Every one was expertly destroyed, heads lopped off necks, chests cut across their undead hearts, every one of them showing a faint shock on their faces as they fell, truly dead, to the ground.

Gracious they would need to replace carpets and sand floors for weeks to clean this up.

"So… I highly recommend pissing yourself, followed by some prayers to your impotent god. Then I suggest cowering as you await inevitable death." Walter said, his voice starting as an ironic purr but dropping into a very threatening growl by the end. Yet Jan Valentine was either too stupid to cringe… or he had something up his tacky sleeves.

He began to laugh, a laugh so insane, so mindlessly gruesome that she shivered. _His_ laugh might be crazy sometimes, but he was not just a thing wallowing in death for death's sake. His killing had purpose, and was merciful in the end.

Jan's actions were filled with nothing but aimless desires to do violence in as many ways, to as many people as he could.

She shivered as an absolute lust to destroy him came over her. Yet she could not; she had her orders. He was a Freak, and they needed him alive for questioning. She sure hoped she could watch it too. She would have relished such a scene even if she were still human, she would have enjoyed watching her masters make Jan scream…

Jan nodded frantically. "You're just in time old man. I was so damn bored I was gonna a cry. At least you were a few seconds of fun!" he moved with vampiric speed, slipping backwards as the ghouls left behind him lifted their shields and poked very large caliber guns out of their phalanx. While they were still aimed dead ahead, they would also cause huge damage to the walls and to Walter.

"Miss Victoria? Fire at will." Walter said casually, as if an army of undead was not advancing, safety's being clicked off their guns, all stomping right at him.

"Got it Walter, Sir." She said firmly, though her stomach suddenly felt full of butterflies. She squeezed off the round in her chamber with amazing results.

The projectile hit the first ghoul on Jan's right and punched through it… and the next eight behind it, their bodies ashing instantly. She felt her jaw drop in shock. "What the hell?!"

"Second shot! Switch to grenade launcher, use the type VI grenades!" Walter cut into her reverie of amazement.

"Roger that!' She snapped, vision growing ever more red as moments passed. She released the barrel, her expended shell flying out and still smoking as she grabbed the required grenade, slamming it home in a split second. She heard Walter whistle for some reason, distracting Jan. The Freak was obviously easily drawn off by shiny things.

She fired this round even more devastating than the first; those ghouls still alive were far too damaged to be a threat any longer. But she ignored them anyway. Jan was moving, headed for Walter, who was safely in a doorway. Jan whipped two rather large guns out. There was an explosion of sorts, the dust clearing quickly to reveal Walter standing calmly, his back to Jan who was taunting him despite the impressive display of speed Walter had made, avoiding the small explosion Jan had set off.

She was on her feet instantly. She was behind Jan so fast even his preternatural eyes and ears did not catch it. She grabbed his wrist from behind him, jerked his arm straight up, slung her other arm around his neck in a choke-hold, then swiped his feet from under him, gracefully letting him fall with her riding him down like a child on a sled. She landed on his back and rolled him a bit so he was face out, and utterly subdued.

Instantly Jan went into a diatribe both loud and crass. She ignored him, trying not to breathe his scent; he smelled of graves, rot and blood and cheap gin. Ugh.

"Are you all right Walter?" She asked casually, as if she were not holding a flailing Freak in her tender arms, and Walter had not nearly been blown up.

"Oh I am fine, but I really cannot compare to the skills of my youth anymore. By the way, where did you learn this submission move? It was beautifully executed." She beamed under the praise.

"Walter, I was a cop, assigned to special forces before I came here." Walter nodded with an apologetic smile; she smiled back as Jan wriggled and flailed, but fell silent for a few blessed seconds before speaking in a frustrated but curious tone.

"So wait a second, Bitch! You're a vampire?! We never heard nothing about a new crew of yah at Hellsing…" He panted as she said nothing in reply, both of them eyeing Walter as he stepped closer. He looked a bit pissed.

"So, what was the objective here? I somehow doubt you could have created such a large army with just your own pathetic skills and resources. Who is pulling the sad little puppet's strings?" Jan snickered and looked up with his crazy yellow eyes. She had noticed in passing that he did not have red eyes, but doubted that his eyes were naturally yellow. She could smell the blood and death on him, he had feasted with his ghouls, so why were his eyes not changed? Her eyes would stay blue until she drank of her own free will, or so she had been told.

"If yah kiss my arse, I'll tell you, old man… whatcha say?" Walter had nothing to say actually; he was in motion instantly, his boot-heel crashing down onto Jan's left hand like a jackhammer. Even human ears could have heard all the bones crunch, even over Jan's yip of shocked pain.

"I will ask again. If you do not answer it will be your other hand and so on." Jan pouted then sighed.

"Fine, fine. We have two jobs. One is to destroy the Round Table, every last of the thirteen members! Two is to waste Alucard! And damn but you have made it all so easy!" She tightened her grip on his neck, pulling his head back painfully. Walter looked worried.

"You said… we have two jobs…?" Jan began to laugh again, making her skin crawl. She could feel the evil in his soul, making her feel terrible, yet comforted. Integra was right, Darkness is not Evil. Her soul was safe, for now.

"Ha, ha, ha, fuuuuuuuck yeah! You see, right now my Big Bro is fightin' Alucard. Hell, he probably killed Big Red's ass already!"

Walter looked stunned but she snorted in disgust. As if. He would never, ever be brought low by these Freaks. Never

"Who sent you, and were are you from? Who made you an undead freak?" He asked tightly, smoothing his deadly gloves over his fingers.

"Seriously? Are you fucking serious? I already told yah geezer. _I _am the leader of the Hellsing Elimination Team. Me, Jan Valentine! We were made to get rid of you. That's why we're here, duh! And you all can go to fucking hell! Especially this bitch and that Integra broad!" She muttered at him, dearly wanting to snap his neck; from what she had read, broken necks healed in vampires, but they were not sure what Freaks could endure. Their tolerances were all over the map, some higher, some lower and it varied from one creature to the next. But dammit he called Sir Integra such names!

"Seriously, you pathetic halfwit. What can you do to us now, from such a position? You're utterly trapped, and by a sweet little girl no less." Walter sighed as if feeling sorry for the Freak. She grinned; she thought of his slight more as a compliment actually. Jan growled then began to laugh. Again.

"You're seriously goin' senile geezer! Callin' me pathetic you old fuck!" Suddenly her head snapped around as she heard shuffling undead feet coming for them, some thirty strong. She gaped at the darkness, light as day to her eyes as her comrades, the soldiers of Hellsing stumbled into view, now undead and already rotting. As she stared in horror, Jan swung his arm up and caught her in the temple with his elbow.

The blow knocked her off him, making her head swim. She rolled up, one hand holding her steady as she gingerly touched the bruise on her head. Jan was on his feet in a blink, smirking like a madman.

"Ready to turn against your own? Let's get the party started!" He then jumped right over Walter and dashed for the Counsel doors. She was right behind him, but not to stop him. The Hellsing ghouls were incredibly fast and closing on her. Dizzy still, she ignored Walters efforts to stop Jan's flight, running, but failing to get far. Hand grasped her ankles and pulled her to the ground, giving her head another nasty blow. She turned over and found herself being groped in a very unseemly way, hand all over her, growls and hisses rising in the air. She did not register the sounds of gun fire, dis not hear Walter bellowing like an enraged bull. She felt nothing but disgust and fear…

Then something shifted. _Trust me and we will both be safe_, something purred in her head, and she let go of something, shoving that something aside to protect it and herself. Her vision finally went utterly red as the world slowed down, the ghouls seeming to be moving in slow motion. Her hands moved with casual grace, almost leisurely, yet limbs and heads flew around the room as if shot from cannons in real time, if anyone was even watching with human eyes. She was on her feet in a fluid motion, teeth bared in a chilling grimace that felt oh so natural on her face at the moment. She laughed as insanely as _he_ ever had, as Jan had, as she casually ripped her own men, some of them newly-made friends into tiny shivering pieces. She shoved her tiny hands through chests, pulled heads off necks, ripped arms off and threw them aside as the ghouls made ineffectual efforts to attack or avoid her.

And it was so very glorious, so lovely, so blood-drenched and _fun_. So very fun to watch the vestiges of their shattered awareness of who she was, who they were flicker across their dead faces. Their blood was everywhere while her own skin was perfect, tingling with pleasure, drenched with their blood and flesh. She paused, looking with joy at her crimson stained gloves. Oh she would have a taste shortly, so many were left to play with, to enjoy, and she did not want to miss a second of it.

Before her on the ground was a confused, groaning ghoul. Remembering the delight of squashing a head under her boots, she pressed her foot to his cheekbone, fangs bared as she breathed deeply through her nose and mouth the smell of blood, death, and fear. Such fear, familiar, fulfilling…

Pounding feet came up upon her; she would have turned to attack but the scent was familiar, safe, a scent she was meant to protect, not harm. She ignored it until she felt slender arms wind around her, a frantic voice calling her back, pouring into her ears with an edge of desperation she never would have thought this voice could carry.

"Seras! _No, Seras, stop_! Stop it; you do not need to do this anymore! Its all right, you can stop fighting, we can handle this from here!" She blinked and the red vision disappeared. She reached up slowly and felt the arms around her shoulders, smelled Integra so close to her, dangerously close. She began to shake as Integra hugged her tighter.

"It's all right Seras. Stop now. Please. Just stop." Integra whispered brokenly in her ear. She gulped in air as she took in the carnage she had wrought, the bodies broken or destroyed, the blood everywhere, splashing her legs to mid thigh, dripping from her hands… she shook harder then felt a scream break loose, hurting her throat as she keened for a loss beyond words. Integra held her even tighter, shushing her, steadying her and murmuring that it was all right, that she was not angry. She gripped the Knights arm with what had to be a painful grip, trying to regain more control. She gulped and nodded, sniffling pitifully.

"Oh Sir… Oh Integra, what have I done?" she whimpered. She let go of the older woman's arms, staring around blankly.

"You fought for us, and you survived, Seras. They were dead already. They can rest now. Can you stand?" Integra said quietly, her arms moving away. She nodded and turned slowly. Integra's face was torn with sorrow, her rage gone but slowly rekindling. She gently brushed her vampire's hair back and nodded. "You will survive this. You have survived worse. This… was nothing compared to what you have suffered before. I thank you; you saved us with your action." Integra turned and headed for the counsel chamber, waving for her to follow. She stayed a few steps behind, wary of the ghouls yet alive but unable to do more than groan and reach for them impotently.

Integra moved to stand in front of Jan who was now missing an arm. He laughed, greeting her irreverently and receiving three bullets in the gut for his pains.

"Watch your mouth, you pathetic child. I'm pissed off. Now, why did you attack us? Who sent you to kill us? You did not just decide to do this, someone moved you on the chessboard and I demand to know who, you stupid weak pawn!" Jan laughed, though somehow the sound carried something different now. Regret? Exhaustion? Maybe resignation?

No, it was a sort of panic. An inability to quite absorb that he had failed, that he was trapped, so close to his goal. The fact that his unseen brother had also failed, or else he would have been here by now. He looked up at Integra helplessly for a few seconds.

"Stop laughing you half wit and answer me!" the Hellsing snarled. He sighed and shook his head.

"By now you gotta know that inside my body someplace is a transmitter. They know everything by now. That I lost, and dammit how did that happen… That we're talking now… and do you think they will let me live knowin' that?" She had moved behind Integra and saw something odd. One of his eyes was a normal hazel color, and was calm, the insanity of the yellow eyes quiet, gone from the clear orb. She blinked at him as he stared at Integra, then flicked his mismatched eyes to her. He snapped his fingers dramatically, but her keen eyes saw that he was making a dramatic effect only; his flesh was catching fire already even as he made his little dramatic move. His mad laughter began one last time as the blue flames raced over his body, his volatile blood igniting with a strange whoomph sound.

"Well, since I am fucked, those bastards, let me say this." He raised a middle finger to them, but his eyes were on her. "Enjoy… The… Millennium!" by then the conflagration was beyond control. He was burning so hot and so furiously that even she could barely smell it. Every last scrap of his flesh and clothing was burning, so fast that nothing could be saved.

She did not feel very relieved though. She really wanted to go back downstairs and check on him. Yeah, he was a big boy, older then she by who knew how many centuries. She still worried. No one else even had mentioned him since they had arrived through the vents.

Did no one care about him at all? Worry about him? Even if it was useless to worry about a being, a vampire so powerful as he was, it felt wrong to ignore him this way.

"Walter… can you help them find rest?" Integra's voice broke into her musing. Her eyes were trained to the hallway filled with once men.

"Certainly, Sir Integra." He showed no remorse, only sadness at the inevitable task. Then she heard a strong voice stop them all.

"No Walter, we cannot do that." Sir Islands walked towards them, holding a very nice old semi-auto in hand. He had reloaded it, obviously having emptied it into Jan a short time ago, and now held it out to Integra, his face implacable and utterly empty of any emotion. No anger, no sorrow, no pity.

"This responsibility rests on their commander. Sir Integra. Take this weapon and perform your last duty for them." She watched Integra's face as Walter and Sir Islands debated briefly. The Knights face was stricken for a few seconds, her eyes unfocused and her jaw dropped. Then she stood straighter, her eyes locking on her vampire's still blood-tear rimmed ones.

With any commandership, comes pain. Integra knew she was sending men to their possible deaths or worse every time she dispatched them to fight. This fight had been no different, except that now none of the men had come home intact. She nodded, not smiling, not offering any soft form of kindness. Just a deep sympathy and understanding for the pain Integra was about to inflict upon herself. The two women nodded in unison, sharing a fleeting moment that nonetheless planted a seed of respect and friendship between them.

How long they had to let it grow was yet to be seen.

"Walter, no. I will perform my duty, Sir Islands." Integra took the gun he offered, dropped the clip and eyed it, before holding her hand out for another. Sir Islands solemnly handed her a second clip, and she turned to enter the hallway once more, now a chamber of horrors. The ghouls, her men, those who had trusted her, lay helplessly, groaning and struggling, maybe in pain from the wounds they had gotten, maybe in the throws of an unholy hunger. Regardless, they suffered.

She watched, biting her lips to prevent herself from crying, as Integra moved from ghoul to ghoul, man to man and murmured something softly before silencing them mercifully, with one bullet each. It was quick, but the Hellsing's eyes were dark and haunted when she returned. She dropped the second clip, which she had needed all too soon and stared at it.

"Four bullets left." Integra said absently and then shivered. She looked up at Sir Islands, slowly handing the gun to him. He nodded and then looked down at the gun's clip as well. He shook his head; he seemed to understand a silent communication between himself and the younger Knight.

"I am not superstitious, Integra. It means nothing. We shall call for our cars, and send help for the clean up of the Manor. Walter has done enough and the staff are lost. I would invite you to my estate, but…

"I cannot possibly leave. Alucard and Seras need their resting places, and I will not leave them here alone in this attaboir. And I need… Hellsing's walls. We will accept your offer of assistance however. And we will escort you all to the door." Integra's voice was quiet and utterly without inflection. Sir Islands seem to ignore her dispiritedness.

"Sir Integra. Despite our anger at this failure… You have always done your duty. You are still a credit to Abraham and Arthur, Integra. You will rise above this disgrace, and defeat this new enemy. I have faith in you, child." Integra shook her head and turned away, edging towards her, oddly. She shifted closer as well and shyly touched the other woman's oddly pristine gloves with her bloodstained ones.

She was gratified by the death grip Integra used as she latched onto her young vampires' fingers, and did not let go…


End file.
